tly?  SItbrarg  of 
Prtnrrtnn  SIljMlngtral  ^tmxnut^ 


PFITH   GOD    IN   THE    PFORLD 


WITH  GOD 

IN    THE    WORLD 
9  ^ttm  of  Papery 

BY      ,^ 

CHARLES   H.   BRENT 

OF  sr.  STEPHEN'S   CHURCH 

BosroN 


NEW   YORK 
LONGMANS,  GREEN,  &  CO. 

LONDON    AND    BOMBAY 
1899 


Copyright y  1899,  ^j'  Longmans ^  Green,  &  Co, 


TO   MY   FRIENDS 

JOHN   W.  WOOD,  SILAS   McBEE 

AND 

JAMES   L.   HOUGHTELING 


I 


pvtfact 


HARLES  DARTVIN  says  somewhere 
that  "  the  only  object  in  writing  a  hook  is 
a  proof  of  earnestness.^''  Whether  it  is  the 
only  obje^y  may  be  a  question;  it  is  certainly  one 
obje£i.  And  the  poorest  book  that  ever  went  to  press, 
merits  respeSi,  provided  that  its  writer  is  sincere  and 
speaks  from  convi£iion.  It  is  this  and  the  sense  that 
"  thought  is  not  our  own  until  we  impart  it "  to 
others,  that  has  encouraged  me  to  write  these  pages 
—  originally  a  series  of  papers  prepared  for  the  Saint 
Andrew's  Cross,  the  organ  of  a  Society  for  which  I 
am  glad  to  profess  publicly  a  deep  admiration  and  af- 
fe£iion.  Often,  more  frequently  far  than  is  noted,  I 
have  borrowed  the  thought  and  language  of  others  to 
express  my  own  mind.  I  send  out  this  little  volume 
with  the  hope  that,  before  it  meets  with  the  fate  of 
the  ephemeral  literature  to  which  it  belongs,  it  may 
help  a  few  here  and  there  to  take  up  life's  journey 
tuith  steadier  steps  and  cheerier  mien. 

C.  H.  B. 


ContentjS 


CHAPTERS 


I.  THE   UNIVERSAL   ART  P ^g^       I 

n.  FRIENDSHIP   WITH   GOD  —  LOOKING  9 

in.  FRIENDSHIP   WITH   GOD  —  SPEAKING  20 

IV.  FRIENDSHIP   WITH   GOD— THE   RESPONSE  29 

V.  THE  TESTING    OF    FRIENDSHIP  4O 

VL  KNITTING    BROKEN   FRIENDSHIP  5  2 

Vn.  FRIENDSHIP   IN   GOD  01 

VHL  FRIENDSHIP   IN   GOD  —  CONTINUED  71 

IX.  THE   CHURCH   IN   PRAYER  84 

X.  THE     GREAT   ACT   OF   WORSHIP  97 

XI.  WITNESSES   UNTO   THE   UTTERMOST   PART   OF   THE 

EARTH  I  I  I 

Xn.  THE  INSPIRATION   OF   RESPONSIBILITY  I  2  3 

APPENDIX  —  WHERE   GOD    DWELLS  135 


Ci^apter  i 


T/ie  Universal  Art 


T  Is  produftive  of  much  mischief  to 
try  to  make  people  believe  that  the 
life  of  pirayer  is  easy.  In  reality  there 
is  nothing  quite  so  difficult  as  strong 
prayer,  nothing  so  worthy  of  the  attention  and  the 
exercise  of  all  the  fine  parts  of  a  great  manhood. 
On  the  other  hand  there  is  no  man  who  is  nqt^equal 
to  the  task.  So^ splendid  has  this  human  nature  of 
ours  become  through  the  Incarnation  that  it  can 
bear  any  strain  and  meet  any  demand  that  God 
sees  fit  to  put  upon  it.  Somd  duties  kre  individual 
and  special,  and  there  is  ekemptiort  from  them 
for  the  many,  but  there  is  iiever  any  absolution 
from  a  duty  for  which  a  rtian    has  d  capacity. 
There  is  one  universal  society,  the  Church,  for 
which   all   are  eligible  and   with   which   all   are 
bound  to  unite ;  there  is  one  universal  book,  the 
Bible,  which  all  can  understand  and  which  it  is 
the  duty  of  all  to  read ;  there  is  one  universal  art, 
prayer,  in  which  all  may  become  well  skilled  and 
[    I    ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

to  the  acquirement  of  which  all  must  bend  their 
energies. 

A6live  or  dormant,  the  instinft  of  prayer  abides, 
a  faithful  tenant,  in  every  soul.  The  peasants  who 
went  to  the  Incarnate  One  and  said  "  Lord,  teach 
us  to  pray,"  were  representative  of  a  whole  race, 
a  race  which  feels  stirring  v/ithin  its  breast  a  capaci- 
ty for  prayer,  but  whose  power  to  pray  falls  far 
short  of  the  desire.  The  instin6l  to  pray  may  be 
undeveloped,  or  paralyzed  by  violence,  or  it  may 
lie  bed-ridden  in  the  soul  through  long  negledl ; 
but  even  so,  no  benumbed  faculty  is  more  readily 
roused  to  life  and  nerved  to  a6lion  than  that  of 
prayer.  The  faculty  is  there  ;  no  one  is  without  it. 
Whether  it  expands,  and  how,  is  only  a  question 
of  the  will  of  the  person  concerned. 
It  is  good  to  be  quite  honest  and  frank.  Is  it  not 
so  that  the  real  thing  that  makes  men  dumb  to- 
wards God  is,  in  the  first  instance,  at  any  rate,  not 
intelleftual  doubt  about  the  efficacy  of  prayer  but 
the  difficulty  of  it  all  —  the  rebellion  of  the  flesh, 
the  strain  upon  the  attention,  the  claim  upon  the 
time  ?  Are  not  the  common  stumbling-blocks  in 
the  way  of  prayer  incidental  rather  than  essential  ? 
Do  men  give  up  prayer  because  they  are  conscien- 
tiously convinced  that  they  would  do  violence  to 

[    2    ] 


THE    UNIFERSAL    ART 

their  noble  nature  if  they  were  to  persist  in  its  ex- 
ercise ?  Nothing  can  release  a  man  from  the  duty 
of  praying  but  the  profound  conviction  that  it 
would  be  a  sin  for  him  to  continue  to  pray.  And 
it  might  be  safely  added  that  any  one  thus  mo- 
mentarily caught  in  the  toils  of  pure  reason,  any 
one  endowed  with  such  a  delicate  conscience  as 
would  lead  to  this,  must  eventually  turn  again  with 
joy  to  the  negle<5led  task.  Even  the  great  agnostic 
scientist,  Tyndall,  who,  of  course,  had  a  very  lim- 
ited view  of  what  prayer  was  capable  of  accom- 
plishing, and  was  in  a  position  to  perceive  only  one 
dim  ray  of  its  beauty  —  its  subjective  refining  in- 
fluence upon  the  petitioner — even  such  an  one 
declares  that  "prayer  in  its  purer  forms  hints  at 
disciplines  which  few  of  us  can  negleCt  without 
loss."* 

How  to  perfect  the  talent  of  prayer — that  is  the 
question.  Bent  upon  this  errand  many  wind  them- 
selves in  the  folds  of  complicated  rules  or  bathe 
themselves  in  the  vapour  of  fascinating  theories,  all 
to  no  purpose.  Or,  as  in  the  case  of  most  things 
worth  coveting,  they  cast  around  for  some  easy 
way  of  attainment,  only  to  experience  that  where 
they  "looked  for  crowns  to  fall,"  they  "find  the 
*  On  Prayer  as  a  Form  of  Physical  Energy. 

[  3  ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

tug 's  to  come,  —  that 's  all."  Simplicity  and  cour- 
age are  two  virtues  indispensable  for  those  who 
covet  to  pray  well.  Especially  must  they  be  ready 
to  embrace  difficulty  and  court  pain — and  that 
through  the  long  stretch  of  a  life-time. 

Let  no  man  think  that  sudden  in  a  ?ninute 
All  is  accomplished  and  the  work  is  done ; — 

Though  with  thine  earliest  dawn  thou  shouldst  begin  it 
Scarce  were  it  ended  in  thy  setting  sun. 

Let  it  be  clearly  understood  at  the  outset,  then, 
that  though  the  art  of  prayer  is  a  universal  art  it 
is  the  most  difficult  of  all.  But  even  so  this  is  not 
an  excuse  for  discouragement  or  a  justification  of 
spiritual  indolence,  for  a  man's  best  desires  are  al- 
ways the  index  and  measure  of  his  possibilities ; 
and  the  most  difficult  duty  that  a  man  is  capable 
of  doing  is  the  duty  that  above  all  he  should  do. 
A  moment's  refleftion  must  convince  us  that  man 
cannot  teach  man  to  pray,  because  of  what  prayer 
is.  Prayer  is  man's  side  of  converse  with  God  ;  it  is 
speech  Godward.  How  passing  absurd  it  would  be^ 
for  a  third  person  to  presume  to  instruct  either  ow^. 
of  two  companions  how  to  hold  converse  withll'is 
friend  !  Were  he  to  venture  the  impertine'  'e%e 
would  develop  in  his  pupil  the  curse  of  ^--  con- 
[   4   ] 


THE    UNIVERSAL    ART 

sciousness — that  is  all.  We  can  learn  to  converse 
with  men  only  by  conversing ;  w^e  can  learn  to 
pray  to  God  only  by  praying.  Prayer  is  a  universal 
art,  but  there  is  only  one  Teacher  for  all,  and  He 
never  teaches  tvi^o  persons  in  exactly  the  same 
way.  God's  friendships  are  as  diverse  as  the  souls 
with  whom  He  interchanges  confidences.  These 
confidences  must  come  from  Himself;  none  else 
can  impart  them.  There  are  certain  great  truths 
about  prayer  which  may  be  formulated  to  good  pur- 
pose—  fundamental  laws  governing  all  fellowship 
with  God,  laws  to  which  all  in  common  must  give 
heed ;  but  beyond  this  one  may  not  venture.  In  the 
matter  of  prayer  as  in  all  else  God  reserves  to  Him- 
self the  exclusive  right  of  imparting  His  most  inti- 
mate secrets  diredlly  to  each  separate  soul,  having  a 
separate  confidence  for  each  according  to  its  capaci- 
ty, temperament,  and  all  those  qualities  which  dis- 
tinguish every  man  from  every  other  man. 
Though  we  may  have  learned  the  fundamental 
principles  of  prayer  from  devout  friends  and  teach- 
>  rs,  whatever  we  really  know  of  prayer  we  have 
]  earned  by  praying.  Even  the  mother,  at  whose 
\  1'  e  the  earliest  phrases  of  prayer  were  lisped  out, 
at  •  :  best  only  led  us  gently  into  the  presence  of 
God.  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  the  Church 
[  5  ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

herself  cannot  do  more  than  put  the  soul  very  near 
God  and  leave  it  there,  trusting  that  something 
w^ill  come  of  it.  The  rest  must  proceed  in  dire6l 
course  from  the  lips  of  the  Most  High  Himself. 
So  delicate  and  subtle  is  the  correspondence  be- 
tween the  soul  and  God,  so  "intensely  personal" 
a  thing  is  prayer*  that  we  are  often  seriously  hin- 
dered rather  than  helped  by  the  blundering  but 
well-intended  efforts  of  those  who  would  guide 
us  to  better  devotion.  Even  to  put  a  manual  of 
private  prayers  into  the  hands  of  some  persons  who 
have  not  been  accustomed  to  reach  God  through 
a  book  might  be  sufficient  to  mar  the  spontaneity 
of  their  approach  to  Him  and  check  the  intimate 
relations  with  Him  which  have  hitherto  always 
obtained.  Because  it  suits  one  person's  tempera- 
ment to  call  in  the  aid  of  a  manual  it  by  no  means 
follows  that  everyone  else  should  be  presented  with 
a  copy  of  the  book.  Indeed  happy  are  those  souls 
who  have  always  been  able  to  speak  with  a  rever- 
ent yet  free  familiarity  with  God,  having  nothing 
to  aid  save  the  vision  of  His  face ;  and  the  final 
aim  of  every  good  manual  is  to  emancipate  the 
soul  into  the  joyousness  of  a  spontaneity  which  is 
wholly  devoid  of  blighting  self-consciousness. 
*  Maturin. 

[  6  ] 


THE  UNIVERSAL  ART 
It  ought  to  be  further  added  that  every  one  who 
regularly  uses  set  forms  of  prayer  should  habitually 
incorporate  into  his  devotions  at  least  some  words 
of  his  own  which,  however  poor  and  few,  yet  are 
fresh  and  new  from  his  heart.  Of  course  what  has 
been  said  about  forms  of  prayer  applies  exclusively 
to  private  devotions.  When  the  great  corporate 
life  of  the  Church  speaks  in  worship  it  must  be 
with  one  clear  voice  unmixed  with  the  idiosyn- 
crasies of  the  individual  and  summing  up  the  as- 
pirations of  the  best.  But  of  this  later.  I 
The  world  just  now  is  sadly  in  need  of  better  ser- 
vice, but  before  this  can  be  rendered  there  must  be 
better  prayer.  A  low  standard  of  prayer  means  a 
low  standard  of  charafter  and  a  low  standard  of 
service.  Those  alone  labour  effedively  among  men 
who  impetuously  fling  themselves  upward  towards 
God.  In  view  of  this  it  is  a  comfort  to  feel  that  no 
earnest  man,  whatever  be  the  stage  of  his  spiritual 
development,  can  be  satisfied  with  his  present  at- 
tainments in  his  life  of  prayer.  Fortunately  for  us, 
here  as  well  as  in  other  departments  of  life  the 
ideal  is  always  pressing  itself  upon  our  notice  and 
making  the  adual  blush  with  shame  for  what  it 
is.  And  it  is  just  because  this  is  so  that  there  is 
hope  of  better  things.  The  ideal.beckons  as  well  as 
[7  ]     ' 


v^ 


IVITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

condemns.  What  if  long  steeps  of  toil,  strewn  with 
the  stones  of  difficulty,  lie  in  between  1  God's  home 
is  far  up  on  the  hills,  and  nowhere  is  He  so  easily- 
found  as  in  a  difficulty.  As  has  been  said,  prayer  is 
quite  the  most  difficult  task  a  man  can  undertake ; 
but  it  has  this  gracious  compensation  that  in  no 
other  duty  does  God  lend  such  direft,  face-to-face 
help.  Man  may  speak  wise  words  about  prayer ; 
the  Church  may  bid  to  prayer ;  but  God  alone  can 
unfold  to  souls  the  delicate  secrets  of  prayer.  The 
best  help  is  for  the  hardest  duty — the  help  that 
comes  straight  from  the  Lord. 


[  8  ] 


O^apter  ii 


Friendship  with  God — Looking 


JES,  prayer  is  speech  Godward,  and 
worship  is  man's  whole  life  of  friend- 
ship with  God,  the  flowing  out,  as  it 
were,  of  all  that  tide  of  emotion  and 
service  which  is  love's  best  speech.  It  is  by  think- 
ing, then,  of  the  nature  of  fellowship  between  man 
and  man,  which  is  the  most  beautiful  thing  in  the 
world  excepting  only  fellowship  with  God,  that 
we  can  get  substantial  help  in  developing  the  life 
of  prayer.  Consider  the  Christian  fellowship  of  two 
noble  charafters.  It  is  "the  greatest  love  and  the 
greatest  usefulness,  and  the  most  open  communi- 
cation, and  the  noblest  sufferings,  and  the  most  ex- 
emplar faithfulness,  and  the  severest  truth  and  the 
heartiest  counsel,  and  the  greatest  union  of  minds," 
— Jeremy  Taylor  stops  here  only  because  he  has 
exhausted  his  stock  of  sublime  phrases  —  "  of  which 
brave  men  and  women  are  capable."* 
Friendship  is  a  full,  steady  stream,  not  intermit- 
*  Works:  Vol.  i.  72. 

[  9  ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

tent  or  spasmodic.  It  is  not  something  which  lasts 
only  when  each  looks  into  the  other's  eyes;  for 
"distance  sometimes  endears  friendship,  and  ab- 
sence sweeteneth  it."  It  moves  and  expands  the 
life  even  when  the  mind  is  busied  with  matters 
prosaic  and  vexatious,  even  when  there  is  no  in- 
ward contemplation  of  the  features  or  chara6ter 
of  the  absent  friend.  And  yet,  although  friendship 
does  not  consist  in  face-to-face  communication  one 
with  another,  it  is  in  this  that  it  takes  its  rise,  it  is 
by  this  that  it  is  fed.  Fellowship  is  not  the  same  as 
friendship,  but  there  can  be  no  friendship  without 
fellowship.  That  is  to  say,  there  must  be  certain 
definite,  formal  adls,  a6ls  not  made  once  for  all, 
but  repeated  as  often  as  opportunity  is  given  ;  such 
form  the  cradle  and  nursery  of  friendship.  In  them- 
selves they  are  not  much — a  grasp  of  the  hand,  a 
smile,  a  simple  gift,  a  conventional  salutation,  a  fa- 
miliar talk  about  familiar  things — but  they  intro- 
duce soul  to  soul,  and  through  them  each  gives  to 
the  other  his  deepest  self. 

Friendship  between  man  and  man  is  no  vague,  in- 
tangible thing  whose  only  reality  is  its  name.  Much 
less  can  one  think  thus  of  friendship  with  God. 
Friendship  with  God  is  the  friendship  of  friend- 
ships. While  it  lives  on  strong  and  true  even  when 

[    10    ] 


FRIENDSHIP    WITH   GOD  — Looking 

we  are  not  in  conscious  fellowship  with  Him,  mo- 
ments of  conscious  realization  and  contemplation 
of  His  person,  chara6ler  and  presence  are  as  essen- 
tial to  friendship  with  Him  as  food  is  necessary  for 
the  sustenance  of  life.  There  must  be  times  of 
prayer  and  occasions  of  definite,  formal  approach 
to  Him,  the  more  the  better,  provided  they  be 
healthy  and  free.  It  is  not  an  arbitrary  enadment 
that  declares  morning,  noonday  and  evening  to  be 
the  moments  of  time  when  the  soul  of  man  should 
with  peculiar  intensity  lift  up  its  gaze  unto  the 
hills.*  One  recognizes  immediately  the  inherent 
fitness  of  having  conscious  fellowship  with  God  at 
the  opening,  in  the  middle  and  at  the  close  of  day. 
In  the  morning,  —  because  man's  powers  are  then 
replete  with  life,  his  will  nerved  to  a6l,  his  eye 
clear  to  see ;  never  is  he  so  well  able  to  gain  a  vi- 
sion of  God,  whether  in  the  solitude  of  his  room 
or  in  the  quiet  of  the  Church  at  an  early  Eucha- 
rist,^as  in  the  first  hours  of  a  new  day.  At  noon, — 
because  the  soul  like  the  body  needs  a  mid-day 
rest ;  the  dust  of  adivity  and  the  distraftions  of 
business  will  have  dimmed  the  morning  vision  be- 
fore the  day  is  full  gone,  and  it  is  good  to  refresh 
the  nature  by  again,  if  it  be  only  for  a  brief  mo- 

*Ps.l'V:   17. 

[     II     ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

ment,  looking  straight  up  into  the  face  of  the  Most 
High.  At  night,  —  for  the  evening  shadows  find 
God's  servant  with  soiled  soul  and  drooping  aspira- 
tions in  sore  need  of  that  cleansing  and  cheer  which 
the  sight  of  God  imparts. 

And  the  life  of  prayer  works  in  a  circle.  The  de- 
votions of  the  morning  give  tone  to  those  which 
come  at  noon  and  night,  while  the  night  prayers 
in  turn  determine  the  quality  of  the  morrow's. 
Men  usually  wake  in  the  temper  of  mind  in  which 
they  went  to  sleep.  It  is  all-important  to  gain  a 
clear  vision  of  God  as  the  last  conscious  a6l  before 
going  to  rest.  The  founder  of  French  socialism 
was  awakened  every  morning  by  a  valet  who  said  : 
"Remember,  Monsieur  le  Comte,  that  you  have 
great  things  to  do."  But  it  is  not  men  who  aspire 
only  or  chiefly  in  the  morning  that  achieve  great 
things,  but  rather  those  who  aspire  at  night.  What 
is  of  nature  in  the  morning  is  of  grace  at  night. 
The  vision  that  comes  easily  at  the  beginning  of 
the  unused  stretch  of  a  new  day  is  harder  to  see 
when  disappointment  and  failure  have  clouded  the 
eye  of  hope ;  but  it  means  more.  The  men  who 
attain  the   highlands  of  the  spiritual  life  never 
"  sleep  with  the  wings  of  aspiration  furled." 
Of  course  God  is  always  with  us,  always  looking 

[    12    ] 


FRIENDSHIP    WITH   GOD  — Looking 

at  us  with  searching  yet  loving  scrutiny.  It  would 
be  impossible  for  us  to  be  more  completely  in  His 
presence  than  we  are;  for  in  Him  "we  live,  and 
move,  and  have  our  being."  But  for  the  most  part 
our  lives  are  spent  without  much  conscious  recog- 
nition of  the  faft.  He  will  be  no  more  present  at 
the  last  day  when  we  stand  before  His  throne  than 
He  is  now.  The  only  difference  will  be  that  then  we  I  j 
shall  see  Him  as  He  sees  us ;  we  shall  be  so  wholly  ' 
absorbed  by  that  consciousness  that  there  will  be 
room  for  no  other  consideration  as,  God  grant, 
there  will  be  no  other  desire.  But  before  that 
moment  comes  men  must  pra6lise  looking  into 
His  face  by  faith  so  that  it  will  not  be  unfamiliar 
as  the  face  of  a  stranger  when  the  last  veil  is 
swept  aside. 

Among  men  contemplation  of  another's  personal- 
ity is  the  requisite  preliminary  of  fellowship  with 
him.  Fellowship  can  begin  only  when  there  is  a 
mutual  recognition  each  of  his  fellow's  presence. 
Personality  is  the  most  powerful  magnet  the  world 
knows ;  and  the  finer  the  personality  the  more 
readily  will  ail  one's  best  impulses  be  set  in  motion 
and  attrafted  to  it.  How  vain  then  is  it  to  attempt 
to  speak  to  God  before  the  consciousness  of  His 
living,  loving  presence  has  caught  the  attention 

[  13  ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

and  absorbed  the  mind  —  or  at  any  rate  until  we 
have  done  our  best  to  see  Him,  attentive,  sympa- 
thetic, v^^ith  His  gaze  fixed  upon  us.  Power  to  pray 
is  proportionate  to  the  vividness  of  our  conscious- 
ness of  His  presence  and  personality.  When  a  man 
is  talking  to  a  companion  his  mind  is  occupied 
with  the  sense  of  the  presence  of  an  attentive,  sym- 
pathetic personality  rather  than  with  the  thought 
of  the  precise  words  he  is  going  to  use.  His  fellow 
a6ls  as  a  magnet  to  extract  his  thoughts.  An  ora- 
tor makes  his  finest  appeal  when  he  is  least  con- 
scious of  himself  and  most  conscious  of  his  audi- 
ence. Just  so  then  is  it  with  speech  Godward.  The 
moment  a  man  is  assured  that  God's  personality 
is  present  and  that  His  ear  is  opened  earthward, 
speech  heavenward  is  a  power  and  a  joy,  and  only 
then.  Many  make  prayer  a  fine  intelledlual  exer- 
cise or  a  training  school  for  the  attention — this 
and  nothing  more.  They  strain  their  utmost,  and 
doubtless  they  succeed  well,  to  understand  each 
sentence  uttered  and  to  speak  it  intelligently.  Their 
minds  are  on  what  they  are  saying  rather  than  on 
the  Person  to  Whom  they  are  saying  it.  They  reap 
about  the  same  benefit  as  they  would  if  they  recited 
attentively  a  scene  from  Shakespeare. 
"I  will  lift  up  mine  eyes  unto  the  hills."  The  vi- 
[   14  ] 


FRIENDSHIP    WITH   GOD  — Looking 

sion  of  God  unseals  the  lips  of  man.  Herein  lies 
strength  for  conflid:  with  the  common  enemy  of 
the  praying  world  known  as  wandering  thoughts. 
Personality  will  enchain  attention  when  the  most 
interesting  intelle6lual,  moral  and  spiritual  con- 
cerns will  fail  to  attraft.  If  the  eye  is  fixed  on 
God  thought  may  roam  where  it  will  without  ir- 
reverence, for  every  thought  is  then  converted  into 
a  prayer.  Some  have  found  it  a  useful  thing  when 
their  minds  have  wandered  off  from  devotion  and 
been  snared  by  some  good  but  irrelevant  consider- 
ation, not  to  cast  away  the  offending  thought  as 
the  eyes  are  again  lifted  to  the  Divine  Face,  but 
to  take  it  captive,  carry  it  into  the  presence  of  God 
and  weave  it  into  a  prayer  before  putting  it  aside 
and  resuming  the  original  topic.  This  is  to  lead  cap- 
tivity captive. 

It  is  hard  for  those  to  see  God's  face  who  confine 
their  contemplation  of  spiritual  things  to  moments 
of  formal  devotion,  who,  while  occupied  with  ma- 
terial things,  do  not  explore  what  is  beneath  and 
beyond  the  visible,  who  do  not  strive  to  discern 
the  moral  and  religious  aspeft  of  every  phase  of 
life.  On  the  other  hand  the  vision  of  God  becomes 
increasingly  clear  to  such  as  look  not  at  the  things 
which  are  seen  but  at  the  things  which  are  not 
[  >5  ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

seen.  These  may  be  exceedingly  pra6lical  people, 
people  ever  active  in  the  commonplace  duties  of 
life,  but  their  wont  is  to  cast  everything  into  the 
upward  sweep  of  the  Ascension  of  Jesus  and  every- 
thing is  seen  by  them  with  the  glow  of  heaven 
upon  it.  Of  course  they  pray  well. 
After  all  "the  sin  of  inattention"  does  not  begin 
at  the  time  of  formal  approach  to  God.  It  only 
makes  itself  peculiarly  manifest  then.  If  a  person 
lives  listlessly  and  does  not  put  his  full  force  into 
the  ordinary  duties  of  his  life  where  the  aids  to 
attention  are  plenty,  how  can  he  expedl  to  com- 
mand his  mind  at  those  times  when  it  is  called 
upon  to  make  a  supreme  adt  of  attentiveness  and 
see  Him  Who  is  invisible  ?  A  good  man  of  our 
day  *  said  of  himself :  "  My  greatest  help  in  life 
has  been  the  blessed  habit  of  intensity.  I  go  at 
what  I  am  about  as  if  there  was  nothing  else  in 
the  world  for  the  time  being." 
Here  then  are  two  obvious,  simple  and  rational 
principles  upon  obedience  to  which  hinges  the 
ability  to  make  one's  own  the  growing  vision  of 
God — the  habit  of  spiritualizing  the  commonplace 
and  the  habit  of  attention  in  work.  Whoever  equips 
himself  with  them  has  made  the  best  possible  pre- 
*  Charles  Kingsley, 

[   i6  ] 


FRIENDSHIP    WITH   GOD  — Looking 
paration  for  approach  to  God.  It  is  an  indiredl  way 
of  getting  at  things,  it  is  true ;  but  often  the  method 
that  is  most  indired  is  the  most  direft.  It  is  cer- 
tainly so  in  this  case. 

Of  course  in  considering  the  subjedl  of  God's  Be- 
ing one  cannot  wholly  avoid  the  difficult  question 
of  personality.  It  would  be  aside  from  our  purpose, 
however,  to  discuss  the  matter  philosophically.  For 
all  praftical  purposes  there  is  ample  and  secure  foot- 
ing near  at  hand.  When  by  faith  we  look  toward 
God,  it  is  not  toward  an  immovable  but  beautiful 
statue  we  turn,  not  to  an  abstra6l  quality  or  a  ten- 
dency that  makes  for  righteousness,  but  to  One 
Who  looks  with  responsive  gaze.  Who  notes  our 
desires.  Who  heeds  our  words.  Who  lives.  Who 
loves.  Who  ads.  It  is  a  horrible  and  deadening 
travesty  of  the  truth  to  conceive  of  God  as  a  great, 
impassive  Being,  seated  on  a  throne  of  majesty, 
drinking  in  all  the  life  and  worship  that  flow  from 
the  service  of  His  myriad  creatures.  Himself  re- 
ceiving all  and  giving  none.  Though  probably  no 
one  believes  this  as  a  matter  of  theory,  when  men 
look  for  God  in  the  practice  of  prayer  too  often  it 
is  such  a  God  they  find.  And  many  can  say  with 
Augustine  as  they  review  moments  of  fruitless  de- 
votional effort  m  the  past :  "  My  error  was  my 
[    17   ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

God."  *  The  truth  is  that  though  a  great  tide  of 
energy  moves  ceaselessly  toward  God,  it  is  but  the 
shadow  of  what  comes  from  Him.  Indeed  He  is 
the  Source  of  the  life  which  flows  inward  toward 
Him  as  much  as  of  that  which  flows  outward  from 
Him.  He  is  undying  energy,  with  unerring  pur- 
pose, moving  swiftly  and  noiselessly  among  men, 
striving  to  burn  eternal  life  into  their  lame,  stained, 
meagre  souls.  He  is  the  Father  that  goes  out  to 
meet  the  returning  profligate,  the  Shepherd  that 
follows  the  track  of  the  wandering  sheep.  Man 
has  never  yet  had  to  wait  for  Him.  He  has  always 
been  as  close  to  man  as  man  would  let  Him  come. 
His  hands  have  never  ceased  to  beat  upon  the  bars 
of  man's  self-will  to  force  an  entrance  into  starved 
human  nature.  All  this  must  be  in  man's  concep- 
tion of  God  as  he  approaches  Him. 
What  above  all  gives  to  God  that  which  enables 
man  to  see  Him  is  the  Incarnation.  In  the  God- 
head is  a  familiar  figure  —  the  figure  of  Man.  It 
was  this  that  absorbed  the  attention  of  the  dying 
Stephen.  The  Son  of  Man  standing  on  God's  right 
hand,  was  the  vision  that  enthralled  him  as  the 
stones  battered  out  his  life.  And  it  is  this  same 

*  For  thou  'wert  not  thyself y  but  a  mere  phantom,  and  my 
error  -tvas  my  God.  Confessions.  Bk.  iv.  7. 

[  18  ] 


FRIENDSHIP    WITH   GOD  — Looking 

vision  that  makes  the  unseen  world  a  reahty  to 
men  now.  Humanity  is  there  at  its  centre,  the 
pledge  of  sympathy,  the  promise  of  victory.  Not 
by  a  flight  of  imagination  but  by  the  exercise  of 
insight  we  can  look  and  see  the  sympathetic  face 
of  the  Son  of  Man,  who  is  also  the  Son  of  God ; 
and  with  the  sight  fellowship  with  God  becomes 
possible,  the  string  of  the  tongue  is  loosed  and  we 
are  ready  to  pray. 


[  19  ] 


Ci^aptet  Hi 


Friendship  with  God — Speaking 


UITE  a  sufficient  guide  as  to  how 
God  should  be  addressed  is  afforded 
by  the  Lord's  Prayer.  It  was  given 
by  the  Master  in  response  to  the  ear- 
nest request  of  His  disciples  for  instru6lion  in 
prayer.  Brief,  compaft  and  complete,  it  is  as  it 
were  the  Christian  seed-prayer.  Once  let  it  be 
planted  in  the  heart  of  a  Church  or  the  soul  of  a 
child  of  God  and  it  will  grow  into  the  glowing 
devotion  of  wondrous  colle6ls  and  rich  liturgies. 
Indeed  there  is  no  Christian  prayer  worth  anything 
which  does  not  owe  its  whole  merit  to  the  Lord's 
Prayer ;  and  the  noblest  liturgy  of  the  Church  is 
but  the  expansion  and  application  of  the  same. 
.  iLfiT    j-0.£i  ;    Hence  it  is  the  touchstone  of  all  prayer.  By  it  the 
«    t^ -"-■-.  y      Christian's  mode  of  address  to  God  is  finally  ap- 
'  proved  or  condemned. 

How  important  is  it,  then,  that  a  man  should  know 
the  Lord's  Prayer!  —  know  it,  not  merely  as  a 
formula,  but  as  the  embodiment  of  the  vital  prin- 

[    20    ] 


FRIENDSHIP    WITH   GOD  — Speaking 

ciples  of  converse  with  God.  The  process  of  yore 
must  be  repeated  by  the  disciples  of  to-day.  Like 
their  predecessors  of  Galilee  they  must  approach 
the  unchangeable  One  and  prefer  the  old  entreaty  : 
"Lord,  teach  us  to  pray."  Nothing  short  of  this 
will  suffice.  Then  if  they  listen  they  will  receive 
the  familiar  measures  of  the  "Our  Father"  as  a 
new  and  personal  gift  fresh  and  living  from  the  lips 
of  Jesus.  It  is  good  sometimes  to  "  wait  still  upon 
God"  between  the  sentences,  and  let  the  Holy 
Spirit  apply  each  several  petition  to  one's  own  spe- 
cial case  and  to  all  those  interests  which  concern 
one's  life  —  in  sooth,  translate  it  into  the  terms  of 
our  own  day  and  generation.  It  is  thus  that  the  com- 
pressed richness  of  the  Lord's  Prayer  is  unfolded. 
The  Lord's  Prayer  is  one  of  those  most  precious  of 
things  known  as  common  property.  But  a  common 
possession  to  be  worth  anything  to  anybody  must 
be  related  by  every  one  of  the  multitude  who  claim 
a  share  in  it,  each  to  his  own  personality.  Before 
common  property  can  fully  justify  its  claim  to  be 
common,  it  must  become  in  a  sense  private  by  a 
process  of  implicit  appropriation  or  the  part  of  the 
individuals  concerned.  So  while  the  Lord's  Prayer 
ideally  belongs  to  every  child  of  God  as  the  com- 
mon heritage  of  prayer,  it  adually  belongs  only  to 

[    21    ] 


WITH  GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

those  who  have  recognized  and  used  it  as  a  personal, 
though  not  exclusive,  gift  from  its  Author. 
Not  the  least  important  characteristic  of  the  Lord's 
Prayer  is  its  simplicity  in  thought  and  expression. 
Surely  it  is  not  v^ithout  significance  that  as  it  stands 
in  the  English  tongue  it  is  the  purest  piece  of  Saxon 
in  literature,  a  monument  of  clearness  and  sim- 
plicity. God  neither  speaks  or  desires  to  be  spoken 
to  in  grandiloquent  language  which  belongs  to  the 
courts  of  earthly  kings.  The  difficulty  that  so  many 
persons  find  in  praying  without  the  aid  of  some 
form  of  devotion  is  largely  due  to  the  impression 
that  the  language  needed  for  address  to  God  is  not 
such  as  an  ordinary  mortal  can  frame.  There  are 
four  leading  principles,  the  first  of  which  contra- 
dicts this  misconception,  that  stand  out  in  bold 
prominence  in  the  Lord's  Prayer,  and  tell  us  what 
all  speech  Godward  should  be. 
§  I .  Prayer  must  be  familiar  yet  reverent.  We  are 
taught  to  address  God  as  our  Father.  What  a  host 
of  intimate  confidences  this  single  word  calls  up  ! 
There  is  no  familiarity  so  close  as  that  between 
child  and  father,  no  sympathy  so  sensitive.  When 
Scripture  declares  that  Enoch  walked  with  God, 
whatever  else  it  means  beyond,  it  means  at  least 
that  Enoch  was  able  to  hold  familiar  converse 

[    22    ] 


FRIENDSHIP    WITH   GOD  — Speaking 

with  God  in  prayer.  Those  who  knew  him  could 
find  no  better  way  of  describing  his  relationship 
with  God  than  by  drawing  the  picture  of  the  fa- 
miliar companionship  of  two  intimate  friends.  Or 
again,  when  Abraham  is  termed  the  friend  of  God 
it  implies,  as  well  as  much  beside,  that  he  knew 
how  to  speak  familiarly  yet  acceptably  to  God.  All 
this  was  long  ago,  before  man's  full  relation  to 
God  was  made  known.  The  coming  of  the  Son 
of  God  as  the  Son  of  Man  makes  what  was  really 
deep  seem  shallow,  so  mighty  was  the  change  that 
was  wrought.  It  is  not  merely  as  an  ordinary  friend 
that  the  Christian  may  speak  to  God,  but  as  a  son. 
Filial  relations  are  the  highest  type  of  friendship. 
But  familiarity  must  be  chastened  by  reverence,  a 
quality  strangely  lacking  in  our  national  character. 
It  would  seem  as  though  in  the  boldness  of  our 
search  for  independence  reverence  had  been  largely 
forfeited.  The  Father  addressed  is  in  heaven.  That 
is  He  is  where  holiness  prevails  to  the  utter  exclu- 
sion of  sin.  So  while  we  may  tell  out  the  whole 
mind  it  must  be  done  with  regard  for  the  moral 
character  of  God  and  His  eternal  and  infinite  at- 
tributes ;  with  the  familiarity,  not  of  equals,  but 
of  lowly  souls  addressing  sympathetic  greatness 
and  holiness.  To  dwell  exclusively  on  either  one 

[  23  ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

of  these  two  considerations,  God's  Fatherhood  or 
His  infinite  charafter,  will  result,  on  the  one  hand, 
in  familiarity  without  reverence  ;  or,  on  the  other, 
in  reverence  without  familiarity.  Familiarity  with- 
out the  discipline  of  reverence  is  desecrating  im- 
pertinence, and  reverence  without  the  warmth  of 
familiarity  is  chilling  formalism. 
§  2.  Prayer  should  be  comprehensive  yet  definite.  In  the 
Lord's  Prayer  each  petition  gathers  into  its  grasp 
whole  groups  of  desires,  and  all  the  petitions  taken 
together  give  shelter  under  their  hospitable  shadow 
to  every  need  and  every  aspiration  that  belong  to 
human  life.  Great  gifts  are  asked  for  —  "  Thy  King- 
dom come.  Thy  will  be  done  on  earth,  as  it  is  in 
heaven."  In  such  requests  we  even  claim  things 
for  God  as  well  2.%  from  Him.  The  dignity  of  each 
several  petition  is  marked.  We  are  taught  to  ex- 
pe6l  royal  gifts  from  our  royal  Father,  gifts  worthy 
of  members  of  that  royal  family,  the  children  of  the 
Incarnation.  The  efFeft  of  the  persistent  use  of  these 
comprehensive  petitions  has  filtered  right  through 
human  experience  and  taught  man  to  expeft  great 
things  in  all  departments  of  life,  in  science,  in  in- 
vention, in  literature.  Man's  best  desires  have  be- 
come a  true  measure  of  his  possibilities. 
The  prayer  that  is  shaped  after  the  great  model 

[  24  ] 


FRIENDSHIP    WITH   GOD  — Speaking 

must  not  be  timid  or  faltering,  but  bold  and  aspir- 
ing. It  is  a  great  mistake  for  one  to  be  satisfied 
with  praying  for,  say,  purity  instead  of  "Thy  will 
be  done  on  earth  as  it  is  in  heaven."  That  is  to  ask 
for  the  crumb  from  the  rich  man's  table  when  the 
rich  man  is  beseeching  you  to  sit  by  his  side  and 
share  all  that  he  has.  Let  us  pray  for  purity  by  all 
means,  though  not  as  if  it  were  a  flower  that  grew 
in  a  bed  all  by  itself.  We  can  get  one  Christian 
grace  only  by  aiming  at  all. 
No  less  marked  than  the  comprehension  is  the  de- 
finiteness  of  the  petitions  of  the  Lord's  Prayer. 
Each  is  as  clear  cut  as  a  crystal.  There  is  no  mis- 
taking its  meaning.  Like  the  articles  of  the  Creed 
they  are  all  too  simple  to  be  vague,  and  they  carry 
their  meaning  on  their  face.  It  is  a  common  fault 
in  prayer  to  be  content  with  a  certain  comprehen- 
sion that  abjures  definiteness.  If  the  latter  without 
the  former  can  at  the  best  make  a  charafter  of  but 
small  stature,  the  former  without  the  latter  can 
make  no  character  at  all.  Take  the  one  matter  of 
penitence.  The  mere  admission  of  sinfulness,  as  in 
the  prayer  of  the  publican,  is  but  the  first  moan  of 
penitence.  A  riper  penitence  rises  from  the  vague 
to  the  definite  in  declaring  the  sins,  and  not  only 
the  sinfulness,  for  which  God's  mercy  is  implored. 

[  25  ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

True  comprehension  implies  detailed  knowledge 
and  minute  accuracy. 

§  3.  Prayer  should  be  social  rather  than  individual  in 
spirit.  Our  Father ;  forgive  us.  The  "our"  and  the 
"us"  warn  men  never  to  think  of  themselves  as 
units,  or  of  religion  as  a  private  transaftion  between 
God  and  the  individual.  God  regards  each  as  a  part 
of,  and  never  2i^d.rt  from,  the  whole  race,  at  the  same 
time  cherishing  each  part  as  though  it  were  the 
whole.  Consequently  petitions  for  others  ought  to 
keep  even  pace  with  those  for  ourselves.  A  mo- 
ment's reflection  shows  how  true  philosophically 
the  social  form  of  prayer  is.  So  closely  is  the  web 
of  human  life  woven  that  what  touches  one  touches 
two  at  least,  unless  a  man  be  a  hermit,  when  he  is 
as  good  as  dead.  Even  supposing  one  were  to  pray 
for  a  spiritual  gift  for  himself  alone  and  receive  it, 
it  would  at  once  become  the  property  of  others  in 
some  measure  at  any  rate.  It  is  an  inflexible  law 
that  the  righteousness  or  the  evil,  as  the  case  may 
be,  which  dwells  in  a  man,  becomes  forthwith  the 
righteousness  or  the  evil  of  the  society  to  which 
he  belongs.  It  is  only  common  sense  then  to  pray 
"give  us"  and  "forgive  us"  rather  than  "give 
me"  and  "forgive  me." 
Of  course,  this  does  not  mean  that  "I"  and  "me" 

[  26  ] 


FRIENDSHIP    WITH   GOD  — Speaking 

should  never  occur  in  our  private  prayers.  They 
must  do  so.  But  I  am  to  love  my  neighbour  as  my- 
self on  my  knees  as  vi^ell  as  in  society.  My  neigh- 
bour is  my  other  or  second  self  to  v^hich  I  owe  an 
equal  duty  of  prayer  w^ith  myself.  To  link  "their" 
or  "his"  with  "mine"  on  equal  terms  is  really  to 
say  "  our  "  ;  to  ask  for  others  separately  what  I  have 
already  claimed  for  myself  is  to  be  social  rather  than 
individual  in  prayer. 

It  would  follow,  then,  that  intercessory  prayer  is 
not  a  work  of  extraordinary  merit  but  a  necessary 
element  of  devotion.  It  is  the  simple  recognition  in 
worship  of  the  fundamental  law  of  human  life  that 
no  man  lives  or  dies  alone.  But  intercession  rises 
to  sublime  heights  when  it  claims  the  privilege 
and  the  power  for  each  child  of  God  to  gather  up 
in  his  arms  the  whole  family  to  which  he  belongs, 
and  carry  it  with  its  multifold  needs  and  its  glori- 
ous possibilities  into  the  presence  of  the  common 
Father  for  blessing  and  prote6lion.  It  is  grand  to 
feel  that  the  Christian  can  lift,  by  the  power  of 
prayer,  a  myriad  as  easily  as  one,  that  he  can  hold 
in  his  grasp  the  whole  Church  as  firmly  as  a  single 
parish,  and  can  bring  down  showers  of  blessing  on 
an  entire  race  as  readily  as  the  few  drops  needed 
for  his  own  little  plot. 

[  27  ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

§4.  Prayer  must  maintain  proper  proportions.  Spirit- 
ual needs  are  paramount,  material  are  secondary. 
Out  of  seven  petitions  six  bear  upon  the  invisible 
foundations  of  life  and  the  remaining  one  alone  is 
concerned,  direftly  at  any  rate,  with  things  mate- 
rial. It  is  further  remarkable  that  the  latter  is  as 
modest  as  the  former  are  bold.  The  soul  needs  the 
whole  of  God's  eternal  Kingdom  where  the  body 
requires  but  bread  for  the  day.  The  Lord's  Prayer 
does  not  teach  asceticism,  but  it  certainly  con- 
demns luxury,  and  implies  that  the  physical  na- 
ture requires  a  minimum  rather  than  a  maximum 
of  attention  and  care. 

With  the  vision  of  God  above  and  the  Christian 
seed-prayer  well  planted  in  the  soul,  man  can  dare 
to  hope  that  his  speech  Godward  will  not  waste 
itself  in  hollow  echoes,  but  will  travel  straight  up 
to  the  throne  of  Grace  and  bring  a  speedy  an- 
swer. 


[  28  ] 


Cl)apter  fb 


Friendship  with  God —  The  Response 

|R0BABLY  the  greatest  result  of  the 
life  of  prayer  is  an  unconscious  but 
steady  growth  into  the  knowledge  of 
the  mind  of  God  and  into  conform- 
ity with  His  will ;  for  after  all  prayer  is  not  so 
much  the  means  whereby  God's  will  is  bent  to 
man's  desires  as  it  is  that  whereby  man's  will  is 
bent  to  God's  desires.  While  Jesus  readily  re- 
sponded to  the  requests  and  inquiries  of  His  disci- 
ples His  great  gift  to  them  was  Himself,  His  per- 
sonality. He  called  His  apostles  that  they  "should 
be  with  Him."  The  all-important  thing  is  not  to 
live  apart  from  God,  but  as  far  as  possible  to  be 
consciously  with  Him.  It  must  needs  be  that  those 
who  look  much  into  His  face  will  become  like 
Him.  Man  reflefts  in  himself  his  environment,  es- 
pecially if  he  surrenders  himself  unreservedly  to  its 
influence.  In  the  case  of  God,  "  in  Whom  we  live 
and  move  and  have  our  being,"  the  influence  is 
not  passive,  but  aftive  in  impressing  its  character 

[  29  ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

upon  us.  It  is  not  as  the  white  of  the  land  of  snow 
which  coats  its  animals  with  its  own  colour ;  it  is  a 
Person.  The  complete  vision  of  Christ  will  mean 
the  complete  transformation  of  man  —  "We  shall 
be  like  Him ;  for  we  shall  see  Him  as  He  is."  If 
there  were  no  other  conceivable  result  from  prayer 
than  just  this,  it  would  even  so  be  wonderful.  Cer- 
tainly that  which  we  treasure  most  in  companion- 
ship with  an  earthly  friend  is  not  his  counsel  or 
service  ;  it  is  the  touch  of  his  soul  upon  our  own  ; 
it  is  the  embrace  of  his  whole  being  that  wraps 
itself  about  our  whole  being.  One  may  say  then 
that  the  real  end  of  prayer  is  not  so  much  to  get 
this  or  that  single  desire  granted,  as  to  put  human 
life  into  full  and  joyful  conformity  with  the  will 
of  God. 

This  thought,  beautiful  and  true  as  it  is,  would  be 
too  intangible  and  too  great  a  tax  upon  faith,  un- 
less man  had  some  more  or  less  definite  and  im- 
mediate recognition  of  his  heavenward  appeals. 
The  Old  Testament  is  a  standing  witness  to  God's 
consideration  for  human  limitations  and  weakness. 
He  sometimes  gave  man  less  than  the  best  because 
of  the  latter's  inability  to  receive  the  best,  though 
He  always  gave  as  much  as  could  be  received,  un- 
til at  last  He  gave  His  Son.  Now  it  is  in  this  same 

[  30  ] 


FRIENDSHIP  WITH  GOD— The  Response 
way  that  He  deals  with  His  children  of  to-day.  At 
first  the  lesser  gifts  are  sought  for  and  given,  but 
as  spiritual  life  ripens  what  man  craves  most  for 
and  what  God  is  most  eager  to  grant  is  that  the 
Father's  will  may  be  wholly  worked  out  in  His 
child.  Trust  so  grows  that  there  can  be  no  such 
thing  as  disappointment  regarding  the  way  God 
treats  our  petitions. 

Not  Thy  gifts  I  seek,  O  Lord; 

Not  Thy  gifts  but  Thee. 
Whmt  were  all  Thy  boundless  store 
Without  Thyself?  What  less  or  more  ? 

Not  Thy  gifts  but  Thee. 

This  frame  of  mind,  however,  belongs  to  the  to- 
morrow of  most  lives.  For  the  present  the  lesser 
gifts  are  the  best  we  are  equal  to.  And  it  cannot 
be  too  often  or  too  strongly  said  that  God  has  di- 
rect answers  to  prayer  for  every  soul  that  appeals 
to  Him.  But  many  fail  to  recognize  the  answer 
when  it  comes  because  of  inattention.  If  God  is 
to  be  heard  when  He  speaks  we  must  give  heed. 
It  is  no  less  a  duty  to  "wait  still  upon  God"  than 
it  is  to  address  Him  in  prayer.  A  one-sided  con- 
versation is  not  a  conversation  at  all.  Conversation 
requires  an  interchange  of  thought.  He  who  is  one 
[  31   J 


7 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

moment  the  speaker  must  the  next  become  the 
listener,  intent  upon  the  words  of  his  companion. 
The  expeftation  of  an  answer  to  prayer  is  laid 
down  as  a  condition  of  there  being  one. 
§  I.  Oftentimes  God's  answer  is  in  the  shape  of  an 
aftion  rather  than  a  voice.  When  we  entreat  a 
friend  to  do  something  for  us,  speedy  compliance 
is  a  sufficient  response  to  the  request.  If  we  are  cer- 
tain of  the  person  addressed  no  verbal  assurance  is 
required.  The  chara6ler  of  our  friend  is  the  guar- 
antee that  the  petition  will  be  heeded.  When, 
therefore,  God  is  petitioned  to  do,  we  must  look 
for  an  aftion  rather  than  listen  for  a  voice. 
There  are  some  requests  the  answer  to  which  re- 
turns with  the  speed  of  a  flash  of  light,  as,  for  in- 
stance, when  we  ask  God  to  give  us  some  Christian 
grace  or  disposition  of  heart.  The  giving  comes  with 
the  asking.*  A  man  may  not  be  strong  enough  to 
retain  the  gift,  but  it  a&ually  becomes  his  before 
he  rises  from  his  knees.  The  rationalist  will  objeft 
to  this,  that  such  an  answer  to  prayer  is  nothing 
more  than  the  subje6live  eflFe(5l  of  a  given  attitude 
of  mind.  Grante.d ;  but  that  makes  it  none  the  less 
the  direft  work  of  God.  Secondary  or  scientific 
causes  exhibit  to  the  observer  the  method  by  which 
*  St.  Mark  xi:  24. 

[  32  ] 


^ 


FRIENDSHIP   WITH   GOD— The  Response 

God  fulfils  His  purposes.  The  stone  falls  to  the 
ground  according  to  the  law  of  gravitation,  but 
God  is  behind  the  law  controlling  it.  The  distin-   ' 
guishing  feature  of  the  Jewish  mode  of  thought  ^y  ^--^ 
was  the  way  in  which  it  related  all  things  to  God's  x- 
immediate  aftivity.  The  Old  Testament  is  the  I  / 
book  of  God's  immanence.  The  present  attitude  ■' 
of  mind  leads  men  to  rest  in  all  causes  short  of 
God,  and  even  to  forget  the  need  of  a  Cause  of 
causes.  An  earnest  student  of  nature  remarked 
upon  leaving  her  microscope  :  "  I  have  found  a  uni- 
verse worthy  of  God."  She  at  least  felt  that  a  rev- 
elation of  secondary  causes  was,  at  the  same  time, 
a  new  revelation  of  the  God  of  causes. 
If  it  could  be  proved  that  all  answers  to  prayer 
came  according  to  the  working  of  natural  law,  it 
would  not  eliminate  God  from  the  process,  or  have       1  f  XA^ 
any  sort  of  bearing  upon  the  efficacy  of  prayer.  All 
we  know  of  God's  method  of  work  demonstrates 
His  love  of  law ;  and  it  would  be  no  surprise,  but 
rather  what  we  should  expe6l,  to  find  that  all  the  ^ 
unseen  stretches  of  life  are  equally  within  the  do- 
main of  His  law  and  order.* 
§  2.  But  when  occasion  requires,  the  reply  to  speech 
Godward  comes  in  the  shape  of  a  voice.  In  one  sense 
*  Cf.  Liddon,  Advent  in  St.  PauVsy  p.  zz. 

[  33  ] 


WITH  GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

God  is  always  speaking ;  He  is  never  still.  Just  aain. 
prayer  it  is  not  we  who  momentarily  catch  His  at- 
tention but  He  ours,  so  when  we  fail  to  hear  fTTs 
voice  it  is  not  because  He  is  not  speaking  so  much 
as  that  we  are  not  listening.  We  may  hear  sounds, 
as  a  language  with  which  we  are  not  conversant, 
but  be  unable  to  interpret.  Or  perhaps  we  are  in 
the  position  of  one  who  sits  in  the  summer  even- 
ing when  nature  is  instinft  with  music, — the  chirp- 
ing of  inse6t  life,  the  whispering  wind,  the  good- 
night call  of  the  birds,  —  deaf  to  the  many  voices, 
whereas  a  companion  has  ears  for  nothing  else  but 
what  those  voices  say.  The  cause  of  the  former's 
deafness  is  that  his  attention  is  wholly  absorbed  by 
other  interests.  We  must  recognize  that  all  things 
are  in  God  and  that  God  is  in  all  things,  and  we 
must  learn  to  be  very  attentive,  in  order  to  hear 
God  speaking  in  His  ordinary  tone  without  any 
special  accent.  Power  to  do  this  comes  slowly  and 
as  the  result  of  not  separating  prayer  from  the  rest 
of  life.  A  man  must  not  stop  listening  any  more 
than  praying  when  he  rises  from  his  knees.  No  one 
questions  the  need  of  times  of  formal  address  to 
God,  but  few  admit  in  any  pra6lical  way  the  need 
of  quiet  waiting  upon  God,  gazing  into  His  face, 
feeling  for  His  hand,  listening  for  His  voice.  ''  I 
[  34  ] 


FRIENDSHIP   WITH   GOD— The  Response 

will  hearken  what  the  Lord  God  will  say  concern- 
ing me."  God  has  special  confidences  for  each  soul. 
Indeed,  it  would  seem  as  though  the  deepest  truths 
came  only  in  moments  of  profound  devotional  si- 
lence and  contemplation. 

The  written  Word  of  God  has  special  messages  for 
the  individual  as  well  as  a  large  general  message 
for  the  entire  Christian  body.  The  devotional  use 
of  Holy  Scripture  is  the  means  by  which  the  soul 
reaches  some  of  the  most  precious  manifestations 
of  God's  will.  By  devotional  use  is  meant  such  a 
study  as  has  for  its  ultimate  purpose  an  a6l  of  wor- 
ship, or  of  conscious  fellowship  with  Him.  The 
Bible  reveals  not  merely  what  God  was,  but  what 
He  is.  Finding  from  its  pages  how  He  loved,  we 
know  how  He  loves ;  learning  how  He  dealt  with 
or  spoke  to  men,  we  perceive  how  He  deals  with 
and  speaks  to  us.  But  our  instrudtion  in  things 
divine  must  come  to  us  from  a  Person  rather  than 
a  book,  though  through  a  book  perhaps.  If  we  ap- 
proach the  Bible  as  we  would  approach  Bacon  or 
Milton,  merely  as  a  colle6lion  of  the  wise  thoughts 
and  aftions  of  the  dead,  it  will  never  sway  the  life  to 
any  large  extent.  Holy  Scripture  is  separated  from 
all  other  literature  by  the  fad:  that  it  contains  abso- 
lute spiritual  truth  and  because  its  Author,  as  a  liv- 
[  35  ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

ing  Person,  always  stands  behind  it.  Those  who 
listen  will  hear  the  Holy  Spirit  saying  to  them,  in 
diredl  application,  the  same  things  that  lie  on  the 
open  pages  as  the  record  of  what  was  once  said  to 
men  of  old.  Meditation  or  the  devotional  use  of 
Scripture  renders  conscience,  that  organ  of  the  soul 
by  which  God's  voice  is  received  by  man,  increas- 
ingly sensitive.  The  Old  Testament  days  were  full 
of  men  who  could  say  "  Thus  saith  the  Lord,"  with 
the  same   assurance  that  they  could  report  the 
speech  of  a  comrade.  Doubtless  God  had  many 
ways  of  speaking  to  the  prophets,  but  whatever 
these  ways  were  and  however  special  and  singular, 
they  were  based  originally  on  those  by  means  of 
which  He  addresses  all  men  in  common.  As  a  re- 
sult of  the  Incarnation  "all  the  Lord's  people  are 
prophets"  and  the  Lord  has  "put  His  Spirit  upon 
them ; "  and  they,  too,  ought  to  be  able  to  say 
,  "Thus  saith  the  Lord." 
§3.  A  third  way  in  which  God  makes  His  will 
known  to  man  is  by  His  silences,  silences  which 
are  always  eloquent.  As  experience  has  taught  us, 
silence  can  convey  a  message  just  as  readily  as 
speech  sometimes,  or  even  more  readily.  The  si- 
lence of  the  Easter  tomb  was  the  first  voice  that 
told  of  the  Resurrection.  The  loved  disciple  read 

[  36  ] 


FRIENDSHIP   WITH   GOD-The  Response 
the  message  of  the  orderly  silence  of  the  place 
where  the  Lord  had  lain  ;  "he  saw  and  believed." 
Silence  has  expression  and  accent  telling  of  sym- 
pathy, rebuke,  anger,  grief,  as  occasion  may  re- 
quire. The  silence  of  Jesus  before  the  importunate 
appeal  of  the  woman  of  Canaan,  was  full  of  sym- 
pathy and  encouraged  her  faith  to  rise  to  sublime 
heights.  Whereas  His  silence  before  the  accusa- 
tions of  His  enemies  during  His  trial  was  so  elo- 
quent as  to  establish  His  innocence  even  in  the 
eyes  of  a  Pontius  Pilate.  And  \(  God  is  silent  now 
at  times  when  we  long  for  some  sign  from  Him, 
it  is  because  by  means  of  silence  He  can  best  make 
known  to  us  His  mind.  His  silence  may  mean  that 
our  request  is  so  foreign  to  His  will,  that  it  may 
not  be  heeded  without  hurt  to  the  petitioner.  Or, 
on  the  other  hand.  He  may  be  luring  on  our  faith 
and  inciting  it  to  a  more  ambitious  flight.  Or, 
again,  it  may  be  that  His  silence  is  His  way  of 
tellmg  us  that  the  answer  to  our  query  or  peti- 
tion lies  in  ourselves.  God  never  tells  man  what 
man  can  find  out  for  himself,  as  He  never  does 
what  man  can  do  for  himself.  The  result  of  giving 
a  person  what  he  should  earn  is  pauperism.  As  God 
will  do,  nay,  can  do,  only  what  will  enrich  human 
nature,  it  would  be  a  contradidion  of  Himself  to 
[   Z7  J 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

answer  what  we  can  find  out  for  ourselves,  or  give 
what  we  can  gain  by  our  own  efforts.  Love  lies 
within  God's  silences  as  their  explanation.*  The 
mother  refuses  to  answer  her  child's  questions  be- 
cause the  child  by  a  little  observation  and  thought 
can  itself  get  at  the  truth,  and  truth  won  by  strug- 
gle is  the  only  truth  that  we  really  possess.  If  God 
is  silent  when  we  ask  for  new  knowledge  of  His 
Person  and  His  love,  may  it  not  be  that  it  is  be- 
cause we  are  substituting  books  about  the  Bible 
for  an  earnest  study  of  the  Bible  itself,  which  con- 
tains a  full  answer  to  our  prayer  ?  Or  if,  when  day 
after  day  we  have  prayed  for  the  conversion  of  a 
relative,  no  response  comes,  may  it  not  be  that  we 
have  never  put  ourselves  at  the  disposal  of  God  to 
be  the  instrument  for  working  out  what  is  at  once 
our  desire  and  His  purpose  ?  At  any  rate,  what- 
ever be  the  explanation  of  a  silence  in  this  or  that 
special  instance,  God  is  never  silent  excepting 
when  silence  speaks  more  clearly  than  a  voice. 
So  the  sure  response  comes  to  speech  Godward  in 

\  fj        !«     *  /  suppose  that  a  constant  vision  of  God  nj^uld  be  an  injury 

\\-S^  0^  '^'^  "      to  almost  all  men^  —  that  there  are  periods  nxjhen  e^ven  utter 

'-■  ^kJ^JSf'^^''^''  '  scepticism  is  the  sign  of  God'' s  mercy ^  and  the  necessary  condi- 
*^  tion  of  moral  restoration.  —  R.  H.  Mutton y  Theological  Essays , 

p.  J. 

[    38    ] 


FRIENDSHIP  WITH  GOD-The  Response 
an  adion,  or  a  voice,  or  a  speaking  silence.  The 
persevering,  faithful,  attentive  soul  will  never  fail 
to  discern  God's  ansv^^er  to  prayer,  nor  be  disap- 
pointed m  the  quality  of  that  answer  when  it 
comes.  God  is  more  ready  to  hear  than  we  to 
pray,  and  it  is  His  wont  to  give  more  than  either 
we  desire  or  deserve.* 
*  Colkafor  Tivelfth  Sunday  after  Trinity. 


[  39  ] 


€})apttv  b 


'T/ie  Testing  of  Friendship 


jF  course,  friendship  with  God  must 
be  tried.  Not  only  can  true  friendship 
stand  any  strain  to  which  it  may  be 
put,  but  it  even  needs  to  be  thus 
tested  in  order  to  be  sohdly  set.  It  is  like  the  knot 
that  becomes  more  fixed  and  firm  at  each  new 
pull  of  the  cord.  The  faith  and  afFedlion  which 
will  cling  to  a  friend  when  all  the  forces  of  dis- 
union seem  combined  to  bring  about  a  separation, 
are  so  tempered  by  the  experience  involved  as  to 
defy  every  conceivable  enemy,  and  to  discover  new 
depths  of  love  and  service  in  the  fellowship  that 
has  been  thus  put  to  the  test.  To  enter  upon  just 
why  this  should  be,  is  not  to  the  purpose.  It  is  a 
fa6t  and  law  of  the  life  of  fellowship  between 
man  and  man,  and  man  and  God.  The  force  that 
threatens  to  break  up  the  connexion  between  God 
and  man,  but  by  means  of  which  that  union  may 
be  consummated,  is  temptation. 
§  I.  Temptation  is  always  an  opportunity.  —  There 

[  40  ] 


THE    TESTING    OF  FRIENDSHIP 

are  two  kinds  of  testing — that  which  proves  a 
thing  to  discover  whether  it  is  what  it  professes 
to  be,  and  that  which  aims  to  bring  out  latent  pos- 
sibilities in  the  thing  tested.  With  the  former  there 
goes  a  sort  of  lurking  suspicion  that  all  may  not  be 
right,  as  when  a  bit  of  metal  is  tried  by  acid,  or  a 
big  gun  is  proved  by  an  excessive  charge.  When  a 
test  of  this  kind  is  over  the  thing  that  is  tried  is 
just  what  it  was  before,  neither  more  nor  less.  No 
new  quality  is  in  the  gift  of  the  test.  With  the  lat- 
ter, on  the  other  hand,  the  result  is  different,  as 
when  the  silver  "from  the  earth  is  tried,  and  puri- 
fied seven  times  in  the  fire."  The  quartz  goes  into 
the  furnace  and  a  stream  of  unalloyed  metal  flows 
out ;  or  to  seek  still  another  illustration,  —  the  pro- 
cess by  which  steel  is  tempered.  Here  new  quali- 
ties are  given  by  means  of  the  testing ;  to  the  silver, 
purity,  and  to  the  steel,  hardness  and  elasticity.  To 
this  second  form  of  testing  belongs  the  element  of 
trust  rather  than  that  of  suspicion.  The  material 
is  so  good,  that  the  workman  has  no  doubt  about 
its  coming  through  the  fire  purer  and  more  valu- 
able than  ever. 

It  is  this  kind  of  testing  which  the  friends  of  God 
must  undergo,  the  kind  of  testing  which  affords 
friends  the  very  opportunity  they  need  to  become 

[  41  ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

better  friends.  It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  man 
being  what  he  is,  there  is  no  conceivable  means 
excepting  temptation,  which  would  give  to  him 
just  those  elements  which  are  necessary  for  his 
progress  toward  God.  Jesus  was  "in  all  points 
tempted  like  as  we  are,"  primarily  that  His  man- 
hood might  reach  its  full  measure,  and  this  entailed 
such  sympathy  with  the  race  as  ensues  upon  a  com- 
mon experience.  Atonement  means  a  unity  with 
God  which  has  been  achieved,  not  by  a  divine  fiat, 
but  by  a  choice  of  the  human  will  that  has  repelled 
the  last  attack  of  God's  greatest  enemy. 
It  is  always  so  that  in  scanning  the  harsh  features 
of  a  refining  process,  the  happy  result  of  the  pro- 
cess is  blurred  and  forgotten.  Temptation  is  surely 
an  assault  to  be  withstood,  but  at  the  same  time  it 
is  an  opportunity  to  be  seized.  Viewed  in  this  Hght 
life  becomes  inspiring,  not  in  spite  but  because  of 
its  struggles,  and  we  are  able  to  greet  the  unseen 
with  a  cheer,  counting  it  unmixed  joy  when  we 
fall  into  the  many  temptations  which,  varied  in 
form,  dog  our  steps  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave. 
The  soldier  who  is  called  to  the  front  is  stimu- 
lated, not  depressed  ;  the  officer  who  is  bidden  by 
his  general  to  a  post  of  great  responsibility,  and  so 
of  hardship  and  peril,  is  thrilled  with  the  joy  of  his 

[  42  ] 


THE  TESTING  OF  FRIENDSHIP 
task.  An  opportunity  has  been  given  him  to  prove 
himself  vi^orthy  of  great  trust,  which  can  be  done 
only  at  the  cost  of  great  trouble. 
This  is  a  true  pifture  of  temptation.  And  the  re- 
sult of  it  all  is  a  nature  invigorated  and  refined,  a 
charader  made  capable  of  close  friendship  vv^ith 
God,  to  say  nothing  of  the  unmeasured  joy  that 
is  the  attendant  of  nobility  of  soul  and  stalwart 
Christian  manhood. 

§2.  The  majesty  of  confix  with  temptation, One 

is  often  depressed  by  the  seemingly  inglorious  char- 
after  of  our  temptations.  They  are  so  mean,  petty 
and  commonplace.  If  they  had  in  them  something 
to  rouse  m  the  heart  that  love  of  romance,  that  is 
a  saving  element  in  human  nature,  one  could  fight 
better.  Now  temptation  has  this  very  element.  But 
spiritual  eyes  are  needed  to  discern  the  glory  of  the 
commonplace,  the  romance  of  the  inglorious.  God 
has  been  trying  with  divine  patience  to  convince 
men  of  this  from  the  very  beginning.  The  story 
of  the  first  temptation  of  the  first  human  beings, 
in  its  poetic  dress  points  to  the  romance  of  life's 
struggle.  Jacob's  wrestling  bout  with  the  mysteri- 
ous being  by  the  river's  brink,  is  a  view  of  the 
underside  of  any  struggle  against  temptation,  as 
God  sees  it,  when  the  tempted  one  fights  to  win. 
[  43   1 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

Above  all  in  the  narrative  of  the  temptation  of 
Jesus  in  the  v^^ilderness,  is  the  majesty  of  confli6t 
with  evil  made  plain.  It  is  a  record  vi^hich  exceeds 
in  dramatic  splendour  the  story  of  "Faust,"  or  the 
realism  of  "  Pilgrim's  Progress."  And  in  it  we  ar- 
rive at  the  paradoxical  truth  that  the  temptations 
of  Jesus  were  just  as  commonplace  as  ours,  and 
that  ours  are  just  as  glorious  as  His,  —  His,  of 
course,  having  a  completeness  which  none  others 
could  have,  for  the  most  complete  temptation  is 
the  temptation  of  the  most  complete. 
Looking  beneath  the  surface  of  the  story,  we  find 
ourselves  face  to  face  with  the  well-known  tempta- 
tions of  the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil.  Wrapped 
in  contemplation  upon  what  His  Divine  sonship 
involved.  He  was  driven  into  solitude,  and  tempted, 
as  He  worked  out  His  life's  plan,  to  substitute  evil 
independence  for  good  dependence,  then  to  flee  to 
the  opposite  extreme  and  substitute  evil  depend- 
ence for  good  independence,  and  finally  to  dis- 
regard the  means  in  His  zeal  for  a  righteous  end. 
These  temptations  are  as  common  as  humanity 
and  as  uninspiring  as  night.  Could  one  have  stood 
by  when  Jesus  was  struggling  with  them,  doubt- 
less nothing  more  would  have  been  seen  than  is 
visible  to-day  when  some  man  in  loneliness,  with 
[  44  ] 


THE    TESTING    OF   FRIENDSHIP 

his  eyes  lifted  toward  the  hills,  wins  the  mastery 
over  himself  and  his  unseen  tempters.  Yes,  the 
Master's  temptations  were  just  as  commonplace 
as  ours.  Why,  then,  this  fine  dressing  up  of  the  com- 
monplace ?  Because,  when  in  after  days  Jesus  told 
His  companions  of  His  confli6l  and  victory.  He 
saw  with  the  illumination  of  retrospe^  what  at 
the  moment  of  the  struggle  He  could  not  see,  the 
glory  of  it  all.  The  story  is  not  a  fi6lion  of  the 
imagination.  It  is  a  true  picture  of  what  occurred, 
a  revelation  of  the  splendour  that  lies  at  the  founda- 
tion of  every  spiritual  contest,  a  record  of  literal 
truth  not  perceived  at  the  time,  but  clear  to  the 
vision  after  all  was  over. 

"After  all  was  over"  —  the  mean  and  common- 
place incidents  of  to-day,  form  the  raw  material 
out  of  which  is  woven  the  romance  of  to-morrow. 
The  ugliest  fafts  make  the  choicest  romance  after 
they  have  been  tempered  in  the  crucible  of  time. 
Ask  a  soldier  how  much  romance  there  was  when 
the  fight  was  hot.  The  sublime  in  battle  is  visible 
only  from  the  vantage  ground  of  vi6lory.  Often 
when  the  life  of  some  humble  and  aiflifted  child 
of  God  comes  to  a  close,  we  see  what  was  hidden 
from  our  eyes  during  his  days  on  earth — the  hero- 
ism of  his  career.  At  first  we  esteem  him  "  stricken, 
[  45  ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

smitten  of  God,  and  afflifted."  Afterward  we  ad- 
mire the  grandeur  and  largeness  of  the  life  that 
once  seemed  so  narrow  and  lame.  Before  death  the 
charadter  of  the  affliftion  claims  our  attention  ; 
afterward  the  chara6ler  of  the  afflifted  ;  now  the 
ugly  fa6t  and  then  the  glory  ;  "  first  that  which  is 
natural  and  afterward  that  which  is  spiritual."  Con- 
sequently there  are  two  methods  of  recording  hu- 
man history — bare  fa6l,  concrete,  grim,  common- 
place ;  its  romance,  abstra6t,  majestic  and  just  as 
real.  We  need  both  kinds  of  description  —  Geth- 
semane  with  its  agony  and  gouts  of  blood,  and  the 
wilderness  with  its  dramatic  imagery.  Neither  one 
is  more  real  than  the  other.  If  the  wilderness  had 
its  grim  side,  Gethsemane  had  its  romantic  side. 
The  ideal  is  realized,  when  the  real  is  idealized. 
Grant  the  truth  of  this — and  who  will  gainsay  it  ? 
—  and  it  follows  that  while  the  temptations  of 
Jesus  were  as  commonplace  as  ours,  ours  are  as 
glorious  as  His.  S.  Paul  saw  it  all  quite  plainly, 
when  in  radiant  language  he  rolled  out  to  his 
Ephesian  friends  that  superb  call  to  battle.  "Be 
strong  in  the  Lord  and  in  the  strength  of  his  might. 
Put  on  the  whole  armour  of  God,  that  ye  may  be 
able  to  stand  against  the  wiles  of  the  devil.  For  our 
wrestling  is  not  against  flesh  and  blood,  but  against 

[  46  ] 


THE    TESTING    OF   FRIENDSHIP 

the  principalities,  against  the  powers,  against  the 
world-rulers  of  this  darkness,  against  the  spiritual 
hosts  of  wickedness  in  the  heavenly  places."  There 
is  nothing  in  the  whole  of  Scripture  that  makes  life 
seem  more  splendid  and  glowing,  and  yet  the  oc- 
casion is  one  of  extreme  peril  and  hardship — the 
moment  of  temptation.  It  is  not  so  that  the  scien- 
tific charafter  of  our  age,  with  its  darting  electri- 
city and  whirring  wheels,  forbids  romance  to  lift  its 
head.  Glory  of  the  highest  type  will  live  as  long  as 
dauntless  human  souls  aspire  to  God,  let  the  world 
be  as  matter  of  faft  or  as  evil  as  it  chooses.  The 
only  thing  that  can  dim  glory  is  the  domination 
of  sin  in  man. 

§  3.  So  much  for  the  splendid  opportunity  which 
temptation  affords.  How  to  meet  it  is  what  the 
story  of  the  life  of  the  Son  of  Man  makes  mani- 
fest. 

{a)  It  is  noticeable  that  neither  by  precept  nor  ex- 
ample are  we  encouraged  to  pray  for  the  removal 
of  temptation.  Once,  it  is  true,  Jesus  expressed  it 
as  His  desire  that  a  cup  of  pain  might  pass  from 
Him,  but  He  conditioned  His  prayer  —  "not  My 
will,  but  Thine,  be  done."  God  did  not  remove  the 
cup,  but  what  was  better  still  He  gave  Him  strength 
to  drink  it.  A  prayer  of  S.  Paul's  was  treated  in 

[  47  ] 


WITH  GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

tation  to  hell,  but  much  more  is  it  an  opportunity— 
to  reach  heaven.  At  the  moment  of  temptation  sin 
and  righteousness  are  both  very  near  the  Christian ; 
but  of  the  tw^o  the  latter  is  the  nearer. 
Walk  in  the  spirit  and  you  put  yourself  in  such  a 
position  as  to  be  unable  to  fulfil  the  lusts  of  the 
flesh.  Meet  the  negation  of  sin  vi^ith  the  affirmation 
of  righteousness.  When  Satan  challenges  you  to 
wrestle  with  him,  turn  about  and  wrestle  with 
God  for  a  blessing. 

[c)  There  is  no  reason  to  be  afraid  of  temptation, 
that  is  to  say  if  it  is  not  a  temptation  into  which 
we  have  entered  unnecessarily,  but  one  that  is  con- 
sequent upon  the  fulfilment  of  duty.  God  does  not 
allow  us  to  be  tempted  beyond  our  powers.  But 
this  is  not  all.  Our  fearlessness  should  show  itself 
in  our  attitude.  We  must  meet  our  temptations 
face  to  the  foe.  The  temptations  of  Jesus  never 
struck  Him  from  behind  but  always  smote  Him 
in  the  face.  There  is  only  one  kind  of  temptation 
which  we  are  advised  to  run  from,  and  that  is  the 
temptation  to  fleshly  lust.  Evasion  is  for  the  most 
part  a  sign  of  defeat,  not  of  vidlory.  The  man  who 
would  gain  freedom  in  temptation  must  be 
One  who  never  turned  his  back,  but  marched  breast  for- 
ward, 

[  so  ] 


rUE  TESTING  OF  FRIENDSHIP 
With  this  thought  we  leave  the  subjedl  of  temp- 
tation, that  strange  mystery  which  proves  man  and 
makes  him  less  unworthy  of  friendship  with  God, 
which  is  at  once  an  opportunity  and  a  snare,  glori- 
ous and  commonplace. 


[  51  ] 


Ci^apter  if 


Knitting  Broken  Friendship 


UT  the  best  of  us  do  not  always  rise 
to  the  opportunity  which  temptation 
presents.  A  gust  comes  for  which  we 
are  not  prepared,  and  we  are  swept 
off  our  feet.  And  the  earliest  penalty  of  sin  visits 
the  transgressor  simultaneously  with  its  commit- 
tal—  that  depressing  sense  of  loneliness  and  separa- 
tion from  God  that  has  been  the  bitter  experience 
\of  every  one,  and  that  is  so  graphically  represented 
in  the  story  of  the  first  a6l  of  disobedience.  Every 
one  who  does  wrong,  by  the  deed  of  wrong  itself, 
hides  himself  from  God  just  as  Adam  and  Eve  did. 
Sin  is  ailing  apart  from  God,  a  withdrawing  of  our 
allegiance  from  Him,  an  ignoring  of  His  voice,  a 
snapping  of  the  bonds  of  friendship. 
When  this  unhappy  experience  occurs  what  are 
we  to  do  to  have  the  breach  between  ourselves  and 
God  filled  up  and  fellowship  with  Him  re-estab- 
lished ?  It  would  seem  natural  to  answer  that  as 
soon  as  we  perceive  that  we  have  fallen  we  should 

[  52  ] 


KNITTING    BROKEN   FRIENDSHIP 

pick  ourselves  up  and  go  on  our  way  without  fur- 
ther thought  about  the  dead  past.  It  is  out  of  our 
reach  ;  it  cannot  be  recalled,  and  to  dwell  upon  it 
is  disastrous. 

A  man  who  has  exercised  a  wide  influence  over 
English  thought  declared  sin  to  be  "not  a  monster 
to  be  mused  on,  but  an  impotence  to  be  got  rid 
of.  All  thinking  about  it,  beyond  what  is  indis- 
pensable for  the  final  effort  to  get  rid  of  it,  is 
waste  of  energy  and  waste  of  time.  We  then  enter 
that  element  of  morbid  and  subjective  brooding  in 
which  so  many  have  perished.  This  sense  of  sin, 
however,  it  is  also  possible  to  have  not  strongly 
enough  to  beget  the  firm  effort  to  get  rid  of  it."  * 
Probably  of  the  two  dangers  mentioned  by  Mat- 
thew Arnold,  the  latter  is  the  greater  in  these 
days  in  which  an  "amiable  opposition"  to  sin  as 
merely  a  pardonable  flaw  in  human  nature  is  so 
widely  taught. 

Whatever  risk  there  may  be  in  looking  sin  squarely 
in  the  face,  and  however  difficult  we  find  it  to  strike 
the  mean  between  morbid  brooding  and  a  total  dis- 
regard for  the  past,  there  never  yet  was  a  man  who 
achieved  the  royal  dignity  of  Christian  charafter 
without  a  painful  and  thoroughgoing  grappling 
*  MattheiJo  Arnold^  St.  Paul  and  Protestantism. 

[  53  ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

with  his  former  self.  Men  may  strive  to  forget  the 
past  by  weaving  about  themselves  a  web  of  absorb- 
ing interests.  But  a  day  of  reckoning  must  come, 
as  it  came  to  Adam  and  Eve  in  "the  cool  of  the 
day,"  as  it  came  to  Jacob  as  he  wrestled  for  better 
things  that  night  by  the  plunging  stream,  as  it 
came  to  S.  Peter  when  he  went  out  and  sowed 
the  seed  of  a  chastened  charadler  in  scalding  tears. 
Were  relief  from  the  haunting  memory  of  badness 
the  only  thing  to  be  considered,  a  calm,  fearless 
scrutinizing  of  sins  committed  is  the  one  cure. 
The  way  to  forget  sin  is  to  remember  it  before 
God — yes,  even  to  the  deliberate  raking  over  the 
ashes  of  the  days  that  are  gone  lest  some  fault  should 
j  escape  observation.  A  sense  of  sinfulness  is  the  earli- 
I  est  indication  of  awakening  holiness.  It  seems  as 
though  the  common  idea  concerning  the  repent- 
ance of  the  Publican  in  the  story  of  the  Publican 
and  Pharisee,  as  told  by  the  Master,  were  short 
of  the  truth.  Surely  there  is  no  ground  for  think- 
ing that  Christ  commends  the  penitence  of  the 
Publican,  who  expressed  his  sorrow  by  saying 
"God  be  merciful  to  me,  a  sinner,"  as  being  ideal. 
Far  from  it.  Poor  and  weak  and  young  as  was  this 
appeal,  it  was  infinitely  more  valuable  in  the  sight 
of  God  and  efficacious  than  the  finely  phrased  self- 
[  54  ] 


KNITTING    BROKEN    FRIENDSHIP 

laudation  of  the  Pharisee.  Penitence  rises  from  a 
sense  of  sinfulness  to  a  recognition  of  sins. 
It  is  not  hard  to  perceive  why  this  must  be.  The 
past  strikes  its  roots  into  the  present,  and  until  in 
some  true  sense  the  past  has  been  undone  it  is 
bound  to  poison  the  motives  and  deeds  of  to-day. 
Of  course  v^^hen  a  thing  is  done  it  is  done.  No 
amount  of  effort  can  undo  it  in  the  sense  of  oblit- 
erating it  from  history.  But  it  is  not  only  possible 
but  necessary  that  in  intention  it  should  be  undone 
and  that  so  far  as  can  be  its  evil  consequences 
checked.  With  the  aid  of  the  imagination  and  the 
will  the  life  that  has  been  lived  apart  from  God 
may  be  lived  over  again  with  Him.  This  in  His 
sight  is  to  undo  it,  for  the  motive  is  the  deed,  and 
intention  is  the  most  powerful  of  realities. 
But  this  is  not  all.  It  is  a  law  of  life  governing  all 
fellowship  that  transparent  frankness  is  the  only 
atmosphere  in  which  friendship  can  exist.  A  wrong 
committed  ought  to  be  followed  by  full  admission 
of  the  deed.  And  it  is  further  noticeable  that  this 
admission  is  not  dependent  upon  whether  or  not 
tlie  person  wronged  is  conscious  of  the  wrong. 
Prudence  demands,  though  not  nearly  so  widely 
as  is  commonly  supposed,  that  under  certain  con- 
ditions a  sin  against  society  should  not  be  publicly 
[  55  ] 


WITH   GOD   IN    THE    WORLD 

confessed  or  even  made  known  to  the  person  chiefly 
concerned.  But  where  this  happens  the  penitent 
should  feel  silence  as  a  weighty  penance,  and  long 
for  a  day  when  he  can  throw  open  his  life  so  that 
he  will  be  seen  to  be  just  what  he  is.  We  are  only 
what  we  are  in  the  sight  of  God.  It  is  a  grief  to 
many  a  holy  man  that  because  of  his  secret  sins  he 
is  better  thought  of  than  he  deserves ;  and  he  will 
hail  the  day  when  all  that  is  hidden  will  be  un- 
covered and  made  known,  so  that  with  the  last 
veil  torn  from  his  character  he  will  be  able  to  join 
unreservedly  in  free  and  humble  fellowship  with 
all  men. 

No  Christian  man  has  any  more  v/arrant  for  try- 
ing to  "dissemble  or  cloak"  his  sins  before  his 
fellow-men  than  he  has  for  trying  to  do  the  same 
thing  before  God.  To  rejoice  when  we  see  others 
attributing  to  us  qualities  which  we  do  not  possess, 
or  to  congratulate  ourselves  when  we  escape  de- 
tedion — or  at  least  when  we  think  we  do,  for  as 
often  as  not  men  see  our  faults  when  we  think 
they  do  not — upon  the  committal  of  some  sin,  is 
to  deepen  that  line  of  deceit  that  furrows  most 
chara6lers.  There  is  no  social  quality  quite  so  splen- 
did as  transparency.  It  is  said  by  one  *  well  quali- 
*  H.  Scott  Holland. 

[    56   ] 


KNITTING    BROKEN    FRIENDSHIP 

fied  to  speak  of  Mr.  Gladstone  that  "the  man  in 
him  leapt  forward  to  express  itself  with  transpar- 
ent simplicity.  If  he  were  subtle  he  showed  at  once 
why  he  wanted  to  be  subtle.  And  in  spite  of  every- 
thing that  could  be  said  about  his  intellectual  sub- 
tlety, it  remains  that  to  the  very  last  the  dominant 
note  of  his  charafter  was  simplicity  —  the  simpli- 
city of  a  child ;  with  the  child's  naive  self-disclo- 
sure, the  child's  immediate  response  to  a  situation, 
without  cloak  or  disguise." 

Now  it  is  just  this  simple,  childlike  transpareney 
that  the  Christian  must  cultivate  in  every  respect. 
When  it  so  happens  to  a  man  that  he  may  not 
tell  his  wrong-doing  to  the  person  immediately 
wronged,  then  let  him  go  to  some  spiritual  friend, 
or  to  his  pastor,  who  stands  as  the  representative 
of  Christian  society,  as  well  as  the  ambassador  of 
Christ,  and  share  with  him  his  grief. 
The  exception  referred  to  above — where  an  open 
confession  would  result  in  social  injury — does  not 
at  all  alter  the  fa6l  that  perfeft  frankness  alone 
makes  fellowship  possible.  More  often  than  not 
when  one  friend  tells  another  of  some  piece  of  petty 
meanness  by  which  friendship  has  been  marred, 
the  injured  party  already  knows  all  about  it.  The 
confession  is  not  made  to  give  information,  but  to 
[  57  ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

open  up  the  soul  that  has  sinned  so  that  the  pro- 
cess of  healthy  social  life  may  be  free  to  work  again. 
It  is  not  wholly  explicable,  but  it  is  a  law  which 
TOverns  human  intercourse. 

o 

Precisely  in  the  same  way  this  law  works  in  the 
life  of  fellowship  with  God.  He  knows  more  about 
our  sins  than  we  can  tell  Him.  But  by  telling  them 
over,  their  occasion,  their  guilt,  before  Him,  the 
soul  is  new-born  into  His  love,  and  the  warmth  of 
His  compassion  melts  the  emotions.  This  is  a  first 
requisite  in  genuine  personal  religion  —  frankness 
before  God ;  and  frankness  among  men  is  second 
only  to  it. 

In  requiring  perfe6l  openness  of  life  from  men 
God  asks  only  what  He  gives.  He  is  Light.  There 
is  no  knowledge  of  His  Person  which  man  is  capa- 
ble of  grasping  which  He  does  not  offer.  He  tears 
open  His  bosom  and  reveals  the  most  sacred  depths 
of  His  being.  He  asks  man  to  do  likewise  that  fel- 
lowship may  follow. 

So  far  we  have  considered  what  man  should  do 
when,  whether  for  a  moment  or  for  years,  he  has 
walked  apart  from  God.  He  must  review  the  past 
and  in  intention  live  it  over  again  with  God,  turn- 
ing his  back  upon  everything  that  is  amiss.  But 
this  alone  is  incomplete.  The  heart  must  receive 

[  58  ] 


KNITTING    BROKEN    FRIENDSHIP 
some  sort  of  assurance  that  the  work  of  penitence 
is  acceptable  in  God's  sight.  There  is  no  thirst  of 
the  soul  so  consuming  as  the  desire  for  pardon.  A 
sense  of  its  bestowal  is  the  starting  point  of  all 
goodness.  It  comes  bringing  with  it,  if  not  the 
freshness  of  innocence,  yet  a  glow  of  inspiration 
that  nerves  feeble  hands  for  hard  tasks,  a  fire  of 
hope  that  lights  anew  the  old  high  ideal  so  that  it 
stands  before  the  eye  in  clear  relief,  beckoning  us 
to  make  it  our  own.  To  be  able  to  look  into  God's 
face  and  know  with  the  knowledge  of  faith  that 
there  is  nothing  between  the  soul  and  Him  is  to 
experience  the  fullest  peace  the  soul  can  know. 
Whatever  else  pardon  may  be,  it  is  above  all  things 
admission  into  full  fellowship  with  God.  It  is  not 
a  release  from  certain  penalties  which  the  natural 
course  of  sin  entails,  though  it  brings  with  it  power 
and  wisdom  to  endure  and  to  use  penalties  so  that 
they  become  means  by  which  lost  virtues  are  re- 
stored and  the  whole  charafter  reinvigorated.  The 
sense  of  fellowship  comes  out  with  singular  force 
when  for  the  first  time  the  pardoned  soul  leaps 
out  from  under  a  weight  of  sin.  The  joy  of  prayer, 
the  fearless  approach  to  God,  the  contemplation  of 
His  personal  love — all  this  testifies  to  what  pardon 
is.  The  absolution  of  the  dying  robber  on  Calvary 
[   59  ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

was  not  merely  an  admission  into  Christ's  privi- 
leges, but  a  call  to  His  fellowship  and  a  speedy  call 
at  that  —  "  To-day  shalt  thou  be  with  Me  in  Para- 
dise." 

The  first  awakening  of  the  soul  to  a  sense  of  par- 
don makes  this  very  vivid.  But  somehow  as  time 
goes  on  and  repeated  falls  on  the  upward  climb 
discourage  the  soul,  the  difficulty  of  grasping  God's 
pardon  seems  to  increase.  Confession  is  made  and 
sorrow  is  felt,  but  God's  face  seems  hidden  behind 
a  cloud.  Then  is  it  comforting  to  remember  that 
all  clouds  are  earthborn.  The  trouble  is  that  we 
reflect  our  own  impatience  and  discouragement  up 
into  the  life  of  God.  Because  we  chafe  under  our 
almost  imperceptible  progress  we  imagine  God 
does  the  same.  His  first  absolutions  were  full  and 
generous,  but  how  can  these  later  ones  be  so  ?  Surely 
they  must  be  grudgingly  bestowed.  So  we  argue, 
and  the  latest  forgiving  message  of  God,  a  message 
as  strong  and  full  as  the  first,  falls  upon  listless  ears. 
The  absolution  that  comes  to  the  penitent  after 
the  seventy-times-seven  repetitions  of  a  sin  is  all 
that  the  first  one  was.  Absolution  is  never  less  than 
absolution.  It  always  admits  to  fellowship  so  com- 
plete that  it  could  not  be  closer. 

[  60  ] 


Cliapter  bit 


Friendship  in  God 


RIENDSHIP  is  not  only  with  God 
but  also  in  God.  Fellowship  with  God 
has  for  its  corollary  fellowship  with 
man  in  God.  And  the  latter  in  the 
greatness  of  its  dignity  and  privilege  is  second  only 
to  the  former.  The  religion  of  Christ  does  not  al- 
low of  one  without  the  other.  The  Church,  which 
is  the  divinely  ordered  means  by  which  man  is  ad- 
mitted into  and  sustained  in  his  fellowship  with 
God,  is  also  the  ideal  society  of  men.  God  never 
considers  men  apart  from,  but  always  as  a  part  of, 
a  great  social  order — a  social  order  that  is  not  a 
concourse  of  independent  units,  but  a  body  instinct 
with  life,  a  society  which  is  not  an  organization 
but  an  organism.  The  description  of  our  relation- 
ship to  one  another  is  couched  in  the  same  terms 
that  tell  of  our  relationship  to  Christ  —  "members 
one  of  another,"  "members  of  Christ." 
It  is  God's  will  that  the  Church  should  be  cotermi- 
nous with  society,  and  that  the  unity  of  life  thus 
[  6i  ] 


JVITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

produced  should  make  the  "communion  of  saints" 
a  reality  on  earth  and  not  a  mere  theory.  Past  years 
have  seen  much  earnest  straining  to  gain  a  truer  con- 
ception of  God,  that  fellowship  with  and  love  for 
Him  might  be  according  to  His  will.  All  this  theo- 
logical effort  will  be  lost,  unless  it  is  followed  up 
by  a  no  less  strenuous  effort  to  make  the  brother- 
hood of  man  a  fa6l.  The  Master  gave  a  new  com- 
mandment of  love,  a  commandment  new  not  in 
essence  but  rather  in  intensity  and  comprehension. 
After  the  injunction  to  love  God  comes  the  equally 
unequivocal  injunction  to  love  man  —  "  Thou  shalt 
love  thy  neighbour  as  thyself."  That  is  to  say,  per- 
sonality whether  in  ourselves  or  in  others  is  to  re- 
ceive the  highest  reverence  and  consideration,  and 
that  without  any  partiality.  Humanity  being  full 
of  diversity,  this  commandment  requires  a  most 
thorough  and  intelligent  study  of  society  and  its 
elements.  Heresies  concerning  God  have  been  and 
are  destru6live  of  unity ;  but  heresies  concerning 
man  are  produ6live  of  almost  equal  mischief.  If 
the  first  part  of  the  commandment  of  love  calls  us 
to  a  study  of  theology,  the  second  demands  a  study 
of  sociology  —  an  old  science  under  a  new  name. 
It  is  worth  while  noting  that  the  Apostle  who 
earned  the  name  of  "the  Divine,"  or  as  we  would 

[  62  ] 


FRIENDSHIP    IN    GOD 
say  "the  Theologian,"  by  reason  of  his  familiar 
acquaintance  with  the  deep  things  of  God,  was 
the  same  who  felt  that  the  appeal  most  worth  ur- 
ging with  the  scant  breath  of  extreme  old  age  was, 
that  men  should  love  one  another  ;  and  he  repeats 
this  simple  phrase  until  the  world  wonders  —  "  My 
little  children,  let  us  not  love  in  word,  neither  in 
tongue,  but  in  deed  and  in  truth." 
But  it  must  never  be  forgotten  that  human  fellow- 
ship and  friendship  must  under  the  best  of  condi- 
tions be  se6lional  and  shallow,  and  under  the  worst, 
disastrous,  unless  it  be  "in  Christ,"  that  is,  in  God. 
The  true  ideal  of  human  fellowship  is  realized  only 
thus.  And  it  is  such  a  unity  as  would  be  the  out- 
come of  fellowship  in  Christ,  for  which  the  Mas- 
ter prayed  at  the  last.  Ecclesiastical  unity  does  not 
necessarily  produce  unity  of  life,  though  the  latter 
must  include  the  former  in  some  true  sense.  Chris- 
tian unity  has  a  twofold  basis,  the  love  of  God  and 
the  love  of  man.  This  differentiation  in  the  com- 
mandment of  love,  is  of  Christ's  own  making,  and 
cannot  be  ignored  by  His  followers. 
In  considering  the  ideal  human  fellowship  it  is  vital 
to  remember  that  the  spiritual,  here  as  elsewhere, 
is  built  upon  the  natural,  the  spiritual  entering  into, 
interpreting  and  developing  the  natural.  And  when 
[   63   ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

the  word  "natural"  is  used,  that  which  is  purely 
accidental  and  artificial  in  life  is  not  meant,  but 
that  which  is  fundamental  and  belongs  to  the  very- 
constitution  of  humanity.  For  instance,  trade  rela- 
tions and  conventional  institutions  of  whatever 
kind  are  evanescent.  To  use  them  for  a  foundation 
is  to  build  on  sand.  An  eternal  fabric  cannot  gain 
coherence  from  a  creation  of  man's  whim  or  genius. 
Indeed  the  institutions  of  commerce  as  well  as  all 
official  intercourse,  can  be  constructed  with  effec- 
tiveness, not  to  say  justice,  only  when  built  upon 
the  recognition  of  the  dignity  of  humanity  and  the 
sacredness  of  personality,  with  equality  of  consid- 
eration for  each.  And  herein  lies  the  solution  of  the 
whole  social  problem  in  all  its  ramifications. 
The  fundamental  relationship  of  life  is  such  as 
springs  out  of  that  common  humanity,  which,  in 
the  last  analysis,  is  a  man's  only  absolute  posses- 
sion, be  he  prince  or  pauper,  wise  or  ignorant.  And 
this  humanity  of  ours  is  a  precious  possession,  not 
always  perhaps  for  what  it  has  adtually  become,  but 
for  what  it  is  in  process  of  becoming,  or,  it  may 
be,  only  because  of  those  latent  possibilities  which 
the  Incarnation  has  declared  to  be  contained  in 
that  which  is  born  of  woman.  Once  armed  with 
this  thought,  Kant's  valuable  negative  advice  never 

[  64  ] 


FRIENDSHIP    IN   GOD 

to  treat  humanity  as  a  thing*  but  always  as  a  per- 
son, never  as  a  means  merely  but  always  as  an 
end,  is  in  order. 

It  is  one  of  the  evils  springing  out  of  an  intercourse 
that  is  so  largely  official,  that  on  all  sides  men  are 
valued  and  thought  of,  only  or  chiefly  on  the  side 
of  economic  efficiency.  That  is  to  say,  they  are 
treated  with  only  that  amount  of  consideration 
which  is  due  a  machine.  A  simple  illustration  will 
suffice.  The  mistress  of  a  household  on  comine 
down  stairs  one  morning  v^as  greeted  by  her  maid, 
who  was  dusting  in  the  hall,  with  a  "  Good  morn- 
ing," and,  "Do  you  know,  Mrs.  Z ,  that  I 

have  been  with  you  five  years  to-day  ? "  "  Have 
you  ? "  was  the  response,  "  You  have  left  some  dust 
on  that  chair."  The  mistress  boasted  doubtless  that 
she  had  "reminded  her  servant  of  her  place."  No 
further  comment  is  needed.  The  maid  thought  her- 
self to  be  a  person,  but  was  reminded  that  she  was 
a  thing. 

Again,  if  the  baker  is  thought  of  as  a  mere  con- 
venience for  baking  bread,  all  demands  he  may 
make  beyond  those  which  will  enable  him  to  pro- 

*  That  is  called  a  thing  to  njohich  no  enjent  can  be  imputed  as 
an  adion.  Hence  e<very  objeSi  devoid  of  freedom  is  regarded  as 
a  thing.  —  Kant,  Metaphysic  of  Ethics. 

[  65  ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

duce  good  bread,  will  be  fiercely  contested.  The 
conditions  under  which  the  bread  is  baked  are  a 
paltry  incident,  provided  they  do  not  in  any  way 
discommode  the  consumer,  and  the  claim  made 
by  the  journeyman  baker  for  opportunity  and 
means  to  realize  the  God-given  ambitions  of  his 
manhood,  ambitions  which  perchance  have  no- 
thing to  do  with  baking  bread,  is  scouted  in  much 
the  same  way  that  a  request  to  decorate  a  machine 
with  gold  trimmings  would  be  scouted.  Of  course 
it  is  as  wrong  to  ignore  the  former's  claim,  as  it 
would  be  right  to  ignore  the  demand  for  expen- 
sive and  useless  embellishments  for  a  piece  of  ma- 
chinery ;  for  one  is  a  person  and  the  other  is  a 
thing. 

It  is  because  men  have  been  thought  of  as  things, 
that  there  are  such  plague-spots  on  the  social  body 
as  sweatshops.  All  movements  that  compel  the  at- 
tention of  the  consumer  to  a  recognition  of  his  re- 
lation to  the  producer  as  a  person,  are  worthy  of 
the  most  careful  study  and  the  highest  commenda- 
tion. Preferential  dealing,  that  is  to  say,  dealing 
preferably  with  such  merchants  as  we  know  to 
have  humane  regard  for  those  who  produce  and 
handle  the  goods  offered  for  sale,  is  merely  a  pass- 
ing phase  of  the  attempt  to  recognize  as  persons 
[  66  ] 


FRIENDSHIP    IN    GOD 

those  who,  though  far  removed  from  us,  yet  touch 
our  hves  and  minister  to  our  necessities ;  and  the 
movement  deserves  support  and  encouragement 
because  of  the  principle  vv^hich  aftuates  it.  When 
h'fe  v^^as  less  complex  than  at  present,  and  the  en- 
trepreneur and  middleman  did  not  exist  to  obscure 
the  relationship  betw^een  consumer  and  producer, 
it  vi^as  easier  to  realize  the  responsibility  of  the  one 
tovi^ard  the  other  than  it  is  nov^r.  However,  it  is  of 
elementary  necessity  that  men  should  learn  that 
the  accident  which  hides  one  seftion  of  society 
from  the  easy  observation  of  another,  does  not 
lessen  one  whit  the  mutual  responsibility  which 
each  bears  towards  the  other.  Nor  does  the  diffi- 
culty of  gathering  information  afford  an  excuse. 
In  these  days  of  pertinacious  investigation  and  or- 
ganized experience,  there  is  no  set  of  conditions  so 
complex  as  to  baffle  ultimately  the  determined  in- 
vestigator of  social  phenomena,  or  to  escape  satis- 
factory adjustment. 

Once  again,  the  cry  of  the  workman  for  a  living 
wage,  is  but  an  indication  that  the  labourer  is  com- 
ing to  a  realization  of  the  dignity  and  fullness  of 
manhood,  and  is  inviting  others  to  share  in  this 
discovery  of  himself.  Who  can  turn  a  deaf  ear  to 
his  appeal,  excepting  those  who  deny  a  man's  right 
[  67   ] 


JVITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

to  realize  himself?  The  dodlrine  of  the  average 
wage,  that  is,  the  wage  which  is  determined  by  a 
"brazen  law"  of  one  kind  or  another,  whether 
that  to  which  the  name  of  Ricardo  is  attached  or 
some  other,  equally  unmanageable,  is  fast  giving 
place  to  that  of  the  living  wage.  The  living  wage 
is  the  evolution  of  the  average  wage ;  the  former 
phrase  declares  that  men  are  requiring  official  deal- 
ings to  be  more  humane  than  of  yore,  as  well  as 
that  the  law  of  wages  is  not  an  almighty  tyrant  to 
which  society  must  bow,  but  a  law  which  is  more 
or  less  obedient  to  the  dictates  of  man's  will.  There 
are  those  among  political  economists  who  now 
maintain  it  to  be  more  reasonable  to  claim,  that 
prices  must  conform  to  wages,  than  wages  to  prices. 
It  is  worth  while  adding  in  this  connection  that  the 
living  wage  is  bound  to  be  progressive,  as  the  duty 
of  treating  men  as  persons  and  not  as  things,  comes 
to  be  more  firmly  imbedded  in  the  public  con- 
science. Some  persons  are  ready  to  admit  the  jus- 
tice of  the  theory  of  Christian  democracy,  though 
unwilling  to  accept  many  of  its  logical  conclusions. 
The  promulgation  of  the  principle  of  democracy 
in  its  mildest  form,  creates  new  desires  or  awakens 
dormant  ones  in  the  undermost  men,  and  of  course 
provision  must  be  made  for  satisfying  these,  else 
[  68  ] 


FRIENDSHIP   IN   GOD 

the  doftrine  which  gave  the  desires  birth  is  hide- 
ously cruel.  A  living  wage  some  years  since,  had 
the  phrase  obtained  in  the  language,  would  have 
signified  for  the  most  part  a  wage  sufficient  to  sus- 
tain animal  life.  That  is,  the  wage-earning  man 
would  have  been  recognized  as  an  animal  but  not 
a  person.  Or  perhaps  it  would  have  meant  a  wage 
capable  of  creating  economic  efficiency,  in  which 
case  it  would  have  indicated  that  the  wage-earner 
was  viewed  as  a  thing.  Now  the  idea  underlying 
a  living  wage  is  a  wage  sufficient  for  the  sustenance 
of  human  life,  of  life  in  which  there  is  room  for 
freedom  of  choice,  and  where  the  whole  man  is 
taken  into  consideration. 

It  is  to  the  credit  of  society,  that  so  much  earnest- 
ness is  being  expended  to-day  in  the  effiDrt  to  hu- 
manize the  various  official  relationships  of  life.  But 
it  is  a  cause  for  shame,  on  the  other  hand,  that 
among  Christian  men  there  should  have  been  so 
deplorable  a  falling  away  from  elementary  Chris- 
tian principle,  as  to  make  this  effi3rt  necessary.  Let 
it  suffice  for  the  present  to  insist  that  until  men 
more  generally  recognize  their  fellows,  whatever 
be  their  position  in  life,  to  be  persons  and  not 
things,  wide  fellowship  at  any  rate  is  an  utter 
impossibility.  And  it  is  from  this  point  that  all  at- 

[  69  ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

tempts  to  solve  social  problems  must  take  their 
beginning.  It  might  prove  a  useful  experiment  if 
occasionally,  for  a  short  period,  we  were  to  test 
our  love  for  others  by  loving  ourselves  as  we  love 
them,  treating  ourselves  as  we  treat  them.  If  it  so 
happened  that  we  were  living  reasonably  near  to 
the  Golden  Rule,  our  conduft  would  not  have  to 
be  materially,  if  at  all,  changed  to  do  this ;  but  if 
we  happened,  on  the  other  hand,  to  be  treating 
our  neighbour  as  a  thing  when  the  experiment 
took  place,  there  is  no  doubt  that  we  should  im- 
mediately become  so  unhappy  and  full  of  pain,  as 
to  be  incapable  of  prolonging  the  experience. 


[  70  ] 


Ci^apter  faiii 


Friendship  in  God  (continued) 

HE  official  temper  of  mind  is  by  no 
means  the  only  bar  to  wide  fellow- 
ship. Exclusiveness  and  tempera- 
mental dislike  are  responsible  for  a 
great  many  sins  against  brotherly  love,  and  must 
be  fought  down  by  every  true  follower  of  our  Lord. 
When  men  are  left  to  themselves,  they  gravitate 
into  mutually  exclusive  groups  composed  of  con- 
genial classes  or  of  congenial  types.  But  Chris- 
tianity steps  in  and  breaks  up  these  little  sets,  in 
order  to  blend  them  into  one  varied  and  splendid 
whole.  The  vision  which  S.  John  had  revealed  to 
him,  was  humanity  in  all  its  variety  —  "  out  of  every 
nation,  and  of  all  tribes  and  peoples  and  tongues" 
— but  at  perfect  unity  with  itself,  a  complete  and 
harmonious  family. 

§  I.  Probably  there  is  no  temper  of  mind  more  dif- 
ficult to  master  than  that  of  exclusiveness.  In  the 
evolution  of  society  class  differentiations  have  come 
into  being,  differentiations  which,  at  the  time  of 

[  71  ] 


WITH    GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

their  appearance,  may  have  been  a  necessary  phase 
of  progress,  but  which,  in  the  development  of  Chris- 
tian thought,  should  pass  away.  It  would  not  be 
right  or  wise  to  contend  for  the  immediate  oblit- 
eration of  all  artificial  distinctions  in  life,  for  con- 
ventionalities are  often  social  safeguards  and  have 
their  place  in  civilization.  But  surely  the  earnest 
disciple  of  Jesus  must  array  all  the  forces  at  his 
command  against  the  continuance  of  customs  that 
have  been  separated  from  their  usefulness,  and  are 
perpetuated  only  to  be  stumbling  blocks  to  human 
fellowship. 

The  worth  of  conventionalism  has  for  its  supreme 
test  the  life  and  teaching  of  Jesus  Christ.  When  He 
quieted  the  strife  of  the  disciples,  who  were  filled 
with  the  ignoble  lust  of  domination.  He  inaugu- 
rated a  new  social  order.  "  He  that  is  the  greater 
among  you,  let  him  become  as  the  younger ;  a-nd 
he  that  is  chief,  as  he  that  doth  serve."  The  old 
order  made  kings  the  recipients  of  much  service, 
the  new  calls  them  to  give  much  service ;  the  old 
order  led  men  to  strive  for  honour,  the  new  inspires 
them  to  avoid  honour  unless  bound  up  with  an  en- 
larged opportunity  to  serve ;  the  old  order  prized 
whatever  privileges  set  men  above  and  apart  from 
their  fellows,  the  new  seeks  everything  that  will 

[  72  ] 


FRIENDSHIP   IN    GOD 

bring  them  nearer  to  their  fellows.  So  merit  and 
reward,  privilege  and  responsibility,  greatness  and 
service  must  never  be  separated.  Where  they  have 
been  separated  in  the  past,  as  well  as  where  they 
are  in  the  present,  the  result  is  exclusiveness.  Men 
cling  to  prerogatives  which  in  common  justice  they 
have  no  real  claim  upon,  beyond  the  flimsy  plea  of 
hereditary  right  and  the  permission  of  society.  Out 
of  this  have  grown  those  groups  of  persons  who, 
though  possessing  nothing  but  a  very  common  hu- 
manity indeed,  would,  from  a  sense  of  superiority 
derived  from  a  name,  or  from  the  false  prestige 
given  by  wealth  and  social  position,  withhold  their 
fellowship  from  all  but  a  sele6t  few.  If  men  could 
but  realize  the  cramping  influence  on  character  of 
exclusiveness,  how  quickly  would  they  hasten  to 
divest  themselves  of  every  trace  of  the  vice  of  snob- 
bishness !  Dives  lived  in  exclusive  society  after 
death  because  he  did  so  before  death.  He  was  no 
farther  from  Lazarus  in  the  other  world  than  he 
was  in  this;  the  gulf  created  here  was  "fixed" 
there,  that  is  all.  And  among  the  "losses  of  the 
saved"  will  be  lack  of  capacity  for  wide  fellow- 
ship. 

The  dignity  of  humanity  is  so  great  that  nothing 

can  add  to  its  greatness,  excepting  what  ennobles 

[  73  ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

human  nature  itself.  Wealth,  social  position,  mere 
intelledlual  attainment,  no  more  deserve  deference 
or  homage,  than  do  the  tatters  of  a  pauper  or  the 
ignorance  of  a  dolt.  No  man  insults  human  nature 
or  demeans  his  personality  so  much  as  he  who  bows 
down  to  these  accidents,  excepting  only  the  man 
who  receives  homage  on  the  ground  not  of  what 
he  is  but  of  what  he  has.  We  may  neither  pay 
homage  to,  nor  receive  it  for,  any  of  those  things 
which  belong  merely  to  time  and  of  which  death 
will  strip  us  bare ;  though  piety,  spiritual  wisdom, 
and  all  forms  of  moral  power,  always  and  every- 
where, demand  homage  and  reverence. 
The  true  basis  on  which  Christian  fellowship  is 
begun  and  maintained,  is  our  common  humanity 
— that  which  is  essential  and  not  that  which  is 
accidental.  Our  Lord  drew  men  to  Himself  and 
had  human  fellowship  with  them,  by  virtue  of  the 
completeness  and  attradtiveness  of  His  splendid 
manhood.  He  had  none  of  the  accidents  of  life  to 
use,  and  He  was  not  weak  without  them.  He  was 
the  most  refined  among  men,  and  yet  He  found 
companionship  among  the  peasant  folk.  Social  dif- 
ferentiations did  not  enter  into  our  Lord's  reckon- 
ing. He  ignored  them,  reaching  through  them  and 
past  them.  It  is  touching  to  remember  that  one 
[  74  ] 


FRIENDSHIP    IN    GOD 

of  the  earliest  companionships  in  Paradise  of  the 
human  soul  of  Jesus,  was  the  resumption  of  almost 
His  last  intercourse  on  earth.  As  the  soul  of  the 
penitent  outlaw  and  robber,  "pale  from  the  pas- 
sion of  death,"  went  into  the  society  of  Paradise, 
it  was  received  and  welcomed  by  the  Man,  Christ 
Jesus. 

It  is  a  myth  that  the  wise  and  cultured  must  con- 
fine their  fellowship  to  the  wise  and  cultured.*  By 
means  of  literature  men  and  women  of  high  privi- 
lege, have  joined  hands  with  those  whose  lives  were 
bare  of  everything  but  chara6ler — with  Adam  Bede 
and  with  Uncle  Tom.  If  this  is  possible  with  the 
creations  of  fi6lion,  it  is  capable  of  being  widely  true 
in  adlual  life.  The  richest  human  nature  is  often 
found  in  the  most  obscure  places,  as  the  experience 

*  Cf.  Browning's  'verses  in  Prince  Hohenstiel-Schwangau, 
where  the  result  of  false  culture,  or  the  abuse  of  culture,  is 
referred  to :  — 

Man  is  made  in  sympathy  nvith  man 

At  outset  of  existence,  so  to  speak-. 

But  in  dissociation,  more  and  more, 

Man  from  his  fellow),  as  their  Ih-ves  advance 

In  culture ;  still  humanity,  that  V  born 

A  mass,  keeps  flying  off,  fining  away 

E'uer  into  a  multitude  of  points. 

And  ends  in  isolation,  each  from  each. 

[  75  ] 


/ 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

of  every  social  worker  from  Edward  Denison  to  the 
resident  in  the  newest  "settlement,"  will  testify. 
True  refinement  is  not  the  result  of  paltry  conven- 
tionalism, the  flimsy  creation  of  an  artificial  soci- 
ety ;  true  refinement  is  the  inalienable  possession 
of  that  charafter  in  which  the  Spirit  of  God  rules, 
in  which  the  material  is  made  the  handmaid  of  the 
spiritual.  At  first  men  went  out  into  the  highways 
of  the  city,  armed  with  their  privileges,  thinking 
that  they  had  everything  to  give.  But  they  soon 
learned  that  this  spirit  could  only  end  in  conde- 
scension, which  is  fatal  to  fellowship,  for  fellow- 
ship means  give  and  take,  and  that  the  poor  and 
unprivileged  had  much  to  give.  Unless  representa- 
tives from  the  different  classes  of  society  are  con- 
tributing their  special  gifts  to  our  lives,  life  is  poor 
indeed.  Wealth  of  fellowship  consists  not  in  num- 
bers, but  in  variety. 

When  men  reach  out  for  wider  fellowship,  they 
must  not  forget  that  no  man  ever  yet  won  his  fel- 
lows through  his  own  interests.  He  must,  by  the 
subtle  power  of  sympathy,  dive  beneath  the  surface 
of  other  lives  and  court  their  interests.  Even  God 
failed'  to  win  men,  until  He  made  man's  concerns 
wholly  His  own  by  becoming  Man.  "  For  ye  know 
the  grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  that,  though 

[  76  ] 


FRIENDSHIP    IN    GOD 

He  was  rich,  yet  for  your  sakes  He  became  poor, 
that  ye  through  His  poverty  might  become  rich." 
§  2.  Temperamental  dislike  is  another  obstacle  to 
Christian  fellowship  to  be  conquered.  It  is  some- 
thing found  wherever  human  nature  is.  And  men 
commonly  excuse  quarrelsomeness,  rudeness  and 
other  unchristian  conduft  on  this  score,  though  the 
excuse  is  by  no  means  valid.  Probably  all  of  us  are 
afflidled  with  a  natural  antipathy  to  certain  kinds  of 
temperament,  but  at  least  we  need  not  humour  it.  It 
was  part  of  God's  design,  that  human  society  should 
be  enriched  by  variety  of  disposition.  That  is  a  poor 
garden  which  contains  but  one  kind  of  flower,  beau- 
tiful as  its  blossom  may  be.  True  beauty  consists  in 
variety ;  and  monotony  is  the  height  of  ugliness.  It 
is  a  reason  for  thankfulness  that  human  nature  is  so 
wonderfully  diversified  that  no  two  human  beings 
are  exadtly  alike,  and  that  there  is  a  whole  gamut 
of  temperamental  difference  in  the  race. 
Now  it  is  a  part  of  the  work  of  Christianity,  to 
reconcile  dispositions  that  are  naturally  antipa- 
thetic and  jarring.  And  the  process  by  which  this 
is  brought  to  pass,  is  probably  one  of  the  most  bene- 
ficial disciplines  to  which  men  are  subje6led.  The 
Church  is  a  great  mixing  bowl,  in  which  all  this 
vast  variety  is  brought  into  close  touch  and  blended 

[  77  ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

together  into  a  harmonious  whole.  "The  very  pur- 
pose of  the  one  Church  for  all  the  men  of  faith  in 
Jesus  is  that  the  necessity  for  belonging  to  one 
body — a  necessity  grounded  on  divine  appoint- 
ment— shall  force  together  into  a  unity  men  of  all 
sorts  and  different  kinds ;  and  the  forces  of  the  new 
life  which  they  share  in  common  are  to  overcome 
their  natural  repugnance  and  antipathies,  and  to 
make  the  forbearance  and  love  and  mutual  help- 
fulness which  corporate  life  requires,  if  not  easy, 
at  least  possible  for  them."* 
That  society  is  at  once  the  most  beautiful  and  the 
most  powerful  which  is  composed  of  the  largest 
variety  of  temperaments,  exercising  their  various 
faculties  in  unity  and  mutual  helpfulness.  Some  per- 
sons imagine  that  the  most  desirable  parochial  life 
is  where  all  the  parishioners  are  of  one  stripe,  instead 
of  that  in  which  there  is  a  finely  disciplined  diversity. 
A  parish  of  dead  uniformity  would  be  comfortable 
but  not  educative,  quiet  but  colourless  and  insipid. 
Unquestionably  certain  natures  are  so  constituted 
as  to  irritate  us  every  time  we  come  near  them. 
And  unless  we  are  very  carefully  on  our  guard  we 
will  not  treat  such  persons  justly  or  courteously, 
much  less  will  we  be  ready  to  render  them  deli- 
*  Gore  on  EphesianSy  p.  189. 

[  78  ] 


FRIENDSHIP    IN   GOD 

cate  service.  Quite  unconsciously  we  exhibit  our 
temper  of  mind.  There  may  be  the  determination 
not  to  allow  our  feelings  to  rise  to  the  surface,  but 
nevertheless  before  we  know  it  we  have  done  the 
mischief;  and  somehow  the  bitterness  we  entertain 
has  been  let  loose,  not  by  a  word  or  a  look,  per- 
haps, but  by  some  subtle  telepathic  or  psychic  in- 
fluence which  opens  the  secret  of  our  soul  to  our 
companion.  There  is  nothing  more  infeftious  than 
a  temper  of  mind.  It  seems  to  leap  out  of  one  soul 
and  impart  itself  to  another  without  heeding  the 
ordinary  laws  of  transmission.  Anger,  lust,  suspi- 
cion, dislike,  jealousy  smirch  not  only  the  souls  in 
which  they  lie  restrained  though  not  conquered, 
but  others  that  come  within  the  radius  of  their 
wide-reaching  influence. 

Fortunately  this  power  of  infeftion  is  not  confined 
to  evil  passions,  but  belongs  even  in  a  larger  degree 
to  those  which  are  good.  And  herein  lies  the  rem- 
edy for  temperamental  dislike.  If  we  stop  short  at 
choking  it  down,  we  can  never  make  a  friend  of 
one  whose  disposition  is  naturally  repugnant  to  us. 
Sooner  or  later  our  dislike  will  crop  out  and  a  gulf 
be  made.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  the  dislike  is  dis- 
placed by  generous,  full  love  —  love  that  is  a  force 
and  not  a  mere  emotion  —  fellowship,  and  eventu- 
[  79  ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

ally  friendship,  will  become  possible.  There  may 
be  grounds  often  for  our  antipathies.  Some  people 
have  the  misfortune  to  be  graceless,  awkward  and 
repellant ;  others  are  unattractive  if  not  positively 
disagreeable  to  every  one  —  bad-tempered,  perhaps, 
or  mischief-makers.  To  educate  these  in  Christian 
fellowship  is  probably  as  large  a  public  service  as 
could  be  readily  rendered.  "It  is  no  great  matter," 
says  Jeremy  Taylor,*  "to  live  lovingly  with  good- 
natured,  with  humble  and  meek  persons ;  but  he 
that  can  do  so  with  the  froward,  with  the  wilful, 
and  the  ignorant,  with  the  peevish  and  perverse, 
he  only  hath  true  charity." 

§  3.  A  third  bar  to  Christian  fellowship  is  what,  for 
want  of  a  better  phrase,  may  be  termed  a  weakness 
for  interesting  people.  That  is  to  say,  the  humanity 
that  is  within  easy  reach  seems  commonplace  and 
uninteresting,  so  that  men  of  our  intimate  acquain- 
tance often  appear  to  be  hardly  worth  while  labour- 
ing for.  Hence  it  is  a  common  habit  to  reserve  our 
best  thought,  our  best  manners  and  our  best  service 
for  strangers,  making  little  positive  effort  to  love  and 
serve  those  with  whom  we  are  thrown  into  daily 
conta6l.  Nowhere  is  human  perversity  more  glar- 
ing than  in  the  sad  truth  lurking  behind  the  pro- 
*  Works:  Vol.  "vii.  624. 

[  80  ] 


FRIENDSHIP    IN    GOD 
verb:  "A  prophet  is  not  without  honour,  save  in 
his  own  country  and  house."  The  value  of  those 
who  stand  nearest  to  us  is  lowered  by  means  of 
their  very  nearness.  On  the  other  hand  the  per- 
sons who  are  outside  our  immediate  circle,  how- 
ever comprehensive  it  may  be,  seem  to  be  more 
interesting  than  the  very  average  folk  who  are 
our  ordinary  companions.  We  long  for  compan- 
ionship with  men  of  this  finer  type. 
Of  course  this  is  all  a  delusion.  Human  nature  is 
full  of  interest  wherever  we  find  it,  that  which 
is  nearest  as  well  as  that  which  is  farthest  re- 
moved. The  men  we  would  like  to  know  and 
serve,  are  no  more  worthy  of  attention  than  the 
men  who  stand  shoulder  to  shoulder  with  us.  But 
those  who  have  the  largest  claim  upon  our  atten- 
tion and  service,  are  our  immediate  friends  and 
neighbours.  Indeed  the  only  way  to  arm  ourselves 
against  disappointment,  as  the  boundaries  of  our 
fellowship  are  enlarged,  is  so  to  attach  ourselves  to 
the  people  near  at  hand  as  to  learn  the  true  dig- 
nity of  all  human  nature  and  the  almost  unfath- 
omable depths  of  every  personality.  Otherwise  an 
acquisition  in  acquaintanceship  will,  after  the  first 
glow  of  novelty  has  worn  off,  only  reveal  one  more 
uninteresting  person. 

[  81  ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

§  4.  There  is  one  other  duty  that  ought  to  be  at 
least  touched  upon  in  this  connexion,  though  it 
has  been  referred  to  in  a  former  chapter  —  the  duty 
of  praying  for  others.  There  is  no  more  delicate 
service  in  the  whole  round  of  human  aftion  than 
that  of  intercessory  prayer.  It  is  so  hidden  as  to 
have  a  special  beauty  on  that  account.  While  men 
are  all  unconscious  that  we  are  thinking  of  them, 
we  fold  our  arms  about  them  and  bring  them  up 
before  God  for  blessing  and  guidance.  Intercessory 
prayer  might  be  defined  as  loving  our  neighbour  on 
our  knees.  The  common  objection,  "What  good 
can  it  do  ?  Will  not  God  bless  men  just  as  much 
without  our  prayers  as  with  them  ?"  seems  to  have 
a  certain  amount  of  weight.  But  a  very  little  re- 
fledlion  shows  that  it  does  not  amount  to  much. 
Even  though  intercessory  prayer  did  nothing  more 
than  put  us  who  pray  in  a  desirable  frame  of  mind 
toward  those  for  whom  we  pray,  it  would  be  an 
exercise  of  great  value.  However,  as  a  matter  of 
fa6l,  it  accomplishes  much  more  than  this.  Besides 
making  our  feeling  of  fellowship  stronger,  it  really 
brings  something  to  those  for  whom  we  offer  our 
petitions.  Human  life  is  as  closely  bound  up  on  the 
spiritual  as  on  any  other  side  of  our  being.  It  is 
quite  certain  that  if  we  withhold  the  duties  of  ser- 
[   82   ] 


FRIENDSHIP    IN    GOD 

vice  in  other  ways  God  docs  not  supply  our  lack, 
so  far  as  we  can  see,  but  human  life  suffers  through 
our  negleft.  If  all  else  in  our  experience  is  gov- 
erned by  law,  why  should  we  believe  that  the  spi- 
ritual part  of  life  stands  alone  and  is  not  afFedled 
by  spiritual  service  ?  There  is  from  analogy  every 
reason  to  suppose,  that  those  who  are  not  prayed 
for  suffer  spiritual  loss  on  that  account. 
But  the  immediate  point  to  be  made  is  that  the 
height  of  Christian  friendship  cannot  be  reached 
without  intercession.  It  has  been  pointed  out  by  a 
spiritual  teacher  *  that  it  makes  a  great  difference 
in  our  feelings  towards  others  if  their  needs  and 
their  joys  are  on  our  lips  in  prayer ;  as  also  it  makes 
avast  difference  in  their  feelings  towards  us  if  they 
know  that  we  are  in  the  habit  of  praying  for  them. 
There  is  no  chasm  in  society  that  cannot  be  firmly 
and  permanently  bridged  by  intercession  ;  there  is 
no  feud  or  dislike  that  cannot  be  healed  by  the  same 
exercise  of  love. 

Here,  then,  as  in  all  else,  if  we  are  to  come  any- 
where near  the  ideal  we  must  lift  our  eyes  to  God. 
Friendship  in  God  is  possible  only  for  those  who 
bring  society  before  God  in  prayer. 
*  Canon  Gore. 

[  83  ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

The  assembling  of  the  congregation  is  something 
far  larger  than  the  creation  of  a  public  occasion 
for  saying  private  prayers.  There  are  numbers  of 
persons  who  go  through  the  whole  service  with- 
out a  thought  for  any  one  but  themselves,  sucking 
the  liturgy  dry  of  whatever  touches  their  own  im- 
mediate concerns,  but  oblivious  to  those  who  kneel 
around ;  and  perhaps  private  manuals  supply  the 
place  of  the  Prayer  Book.  Such  persons  squeeze 
into  their  own  cup  all  the  inspiration  that  a  har- 
monious concourse  of  men  carries  with  it,  and 
make  no  return.  Like  the  horse-leach's  daugh- 
ters their  cry  is,  "Give,  give."  Could  anything  be 
more  selfish  or  more  anomalous  ?  There  is  no  ef- 
fort of  imagination,  no  kindling  of  sympathy,  no 
struggle  to  enter  under  the  shadow  of  the  prayer 
of  the  congregation,  so  that  they  are  as  completely 
alone  as  though  they  were  in  a  desert  place. 
Nor  is  public  worship  a  device  for  rousing  in  peo- 
ple a  devotional  frame  of  mind,  which  will  enable 
them  to  pray  better  by  themselves.  Doubtless  one 
indirect  effedl  of  the  great  dignity  and  beauty  of 
liturgical  worship,  is  to  stimulate  those  who  par- 
ticipate in  it  to  a  deeper  devotion  at  home.  But 
public  worship  is  a  climax,  not  a  mere  means  to 
an  end  j  it  is  the  culmination  of  private  devotion, 
[  86  ] 


THE    CHURCH  IN   PRATER 

not  its  starting  point.  Without  hidden  spiritual 
effort,  it  is  a  phantom  of  the  real  thing ;  with  it, 
it  is  the  matchless  consummation  of  adoration, 
prayer  and  sympathy.  Under  the  least  satisfactory 
conditions  the  congregation  gathered  in  God's 
house  has  marvellous  dignity  ;  the  unity  of  move- 
ment, the  rich  variety  and  the  rhythm  of  liturgical 
expression  characterize  it  as  the  most  august  of 
human  assemblies. 

But  the  possibilities  of  the  Church  in  prayer  rise  to 
their  supremest  height,  when  the  congregation  is 
rich  with  the  fruits  of  personal  religion.  So  closely 
woven  are  the  public  and  the  private  phases  of 
devotion  that  they  are  of  a  piece.  The  power  of 
the  former  is  due  to  the  hours  of  secret  prayer, 
the  struggles  with  self,  the  nerving  of  the  will  — 
in  short,  all  that  hidden  discipline  and  training 
that  lie  behind  the  veil  of  private  life.  Out  of  this, 
corporate  worship  emerges  as  effedt  rises  out  of 
cause.  However  great,  then,  the  private  life  of  de- 
votion is  in  which  men  pray  to  God  in  the  guarded 
secrecy  of  their  homes,  it  is  only  preparatory,  lead- 
ing up  to  the  service  of  the  sanCtuary.  *  Private 

*  The  ivriter  does  not  hesitate  to  ad'vise  persons  <TAjho  are  tem- 
porarily residiftgy  as  is  often  the  case  diirifig  the  summer,  ivhere 
there  is  no  Episcopal  Church,  to  attend  public  <voorship,  once  a 

[  87  ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

prayer  is  the  lesser,  public  the  greater ;  the  former 
is  the  exercise  of  the  individual  members  with 
special  regard  to  their  own  development,  the  latter 
is  the  stately  movement  of  the  whole  body  in  beau- 
tiful unison.  Each  member  contributes  to  the 
whole  what  has  been  gained  in  private  efforts ; 
each  comes  to  give  rather  than  to  receive,  or,  if  it 
may  be  so  put,  to  receive  through  giving  ;  and  of 
course  a  man  can  give  only  what  he  has  gathered. 
The  glimpses  we  have  of  heavenly  worship*  re- 
veal nothing  but  common  worship.  We  see  no  in- 
dividuals standing  apart  from  the  throng,  absorbed 
in  their  own  little  expression  of  praise.  The  ranks 
are  unbroken,  and  one  united  and  uniting  impulse 
thrills  the  whole.  The  visions  recorded  by  S.  John 
are  visions  not  merely  of  ideal  worship  in  its  re- 
stridted  sense  of  spoken  prayer  and  praise,  but  of 
the  ideal  life.  The  fundamental  idea  of  common 
worship  consists  in  dependence  upon  God  and  fel- 
lowship with  man,  and  when  all  life  is  filled  to  the 
full  with  this  twofold  spirit,  all  life  will  be  worship, 
and  let  it  be  said  here  with  firm  emphasis,  that  if 

Sunday  at  hasty  at  the  refresentatiije  Ruangelical  place  of 
woorship  of  the  community.  Reading  the  Church  sewice  at 
home  hy  one''s  self  is  no  substitute  for  public  nvorship. 
*  As  e.  g.  in  Re'V.  "v:  1 1-14. 

[  88  ] 


THE    CHURCH  IN   PRAl^ER 

we  do  not  lift  up  our  life  to  the  level  of  our  prayers, 
eventually  our  prayers  will  be  dragged  down  to 
the  level  of  our  life.  Life  in  heaven  is  something 
more  than  one  long  Sunday  service ;  it  is  the  use 
of  all  powers  and  faculties  in  the  spirit  of  worship, 
worship  representing  the  highest  and  finest  temper 
of  mind  of  which  we  have  experience.  So  when 
we  read  the  figurative  language  of  S.  John,  we 
must  remember  that  he  is  declaring  under  the 
symbolism  of  worship  what  the  features  of  hea- 
venly life  are  —  the  conscious  service  of  God  in  a 
harmonious  human  society. 

Similarly  here  on  earth  common  worship  is  a  sym- 
bol of  true  life  as  well  as  a  means  of  sustaining  it. 
The  attention  of  the  congregation  gathered  before 
the  altar  is  fixed  upon  God,  and  no  stronger  indi- 
cation of  the  reality  of  brotherhood  could  be  con- 
ceived than  the  visible  assembly  occupied  in  a  com- 
mon exercise.  When  all  our  activities  become 
saturated  with  the  consciousness  of  God  in  His 
perfection,  and  with  the  fa6l  of  the  oneness  of 
Christ's  mystical  Body,  formal  worship  will  be  no 
more  a  necessity.  But  that  will  be  when  heaven 
is  reached,  for  which  day  there  must  be  some  little 
waiting  yet.  In  the  meantime  it  is  vital  that  wor- 
ship, as  we  know  it,  should  not  be  an  excrescence 

[  89  ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

on  life  but  a  real  part  of  it,  part  of  it  as  truly  as 
the  deep,  silent  tide  flowing  between  narrow  banks 
is  part  of  the  same  river  which  above  and  below  is 
worried  by  rocks  or  widened  into  a  lake.  Public 
worship  should  represent  perhaps  the  most  con- 
centrated part  of  life,  but  nothing  unnatural,  noth- 
ing out  of  gear  with  work-a-day  moments.  Work 
should  flow  into  worship  as  easily  as  the  stream 
into  the  ocean.  There  should  be,  in  all  the  busi- 
ness of  life,  the  steady  application  of  God's  laws, 
and  that  underlying  consciousness  of  His  Person 
and  Presence  which,  so  far  from  detra6ling  from 
the  efficiency  of  our  work  or  preventing  full  devo- 
tion to  it,  will  intensify  every  energy.  The  melody 
of  the  song  is  emphasized  and  supported  by  the 
accompaniment,  not  lost  in  its  multitude  of  sounds. 
Given  this  attitude  of  mind,  and  what  a  simple, 
natural  thing  praise  with  the  lips  becomes !  And 
how  sublime  the  uprushing  flood  of  hymnody  from 
an  assembly  of  men  of  like  mind  ! 
Again,  public  worship  ought  to  be  the  highest  and 
not  the  only  expression  of  parochial  family  life. 
The  assembled  congregation  is  the  symbol  of  an 
enduring  Christian  brotherhood,  where  mutual 
consideration,  love  and  service  form  the  unaltera- 
ble watchwords.  To-day  this  thought  is  much  ob- 

[  90  ] 


THE    CHURCH  IN   PRATER 

scured  by  the  parochial  family  having  so  little 
reality  outside  the  church  walls.  This  is  especially 
applicable  to  city  churches,  where  congregations 
gather  from  the  remotest  localities.  The  parish 
seems  to  be  fast  dying  out  and  the  congregation 
is  taking  its  place.  The  people  who  worship  in 
the  same  building  neither  know  one  another  nor, 
in  many  instances,  desire  to.  This  is  simply  fatal 
to  ideal  public  worship,  one  purpose  of  which  at 
any  rate  is  to  quicken  and  seal  the  sympathy  that 
already  exists  as  the  result  of  intercourse  in  the 
outside  world.  It  is  a  grave  responsibility  for  any 
one,  for  the  sake  of  what  he  may  deem  to  be 
larger  spiritual  privileges,  to  leave  the  church  of 
the  locality  in  which  he  lives  and  where  his  natu- 
ral duties  and  friendships  lie,  to  go  to  some  distant 
place  of  worship  where  fellowship  is  impossible. 
Ideally  the  worshippers  belonging  to  the  parochial 
family  are  all  known  to  one  another  and  in  fre- 
quent personal  contact ;  they  do  not  look  to  their 
clergy  alone  for  spiritual  help,  but  also  to  their  fel- 
low laymen.  All  too  often  the  clergy  are  supposed 
to  have  the  sole  responsibility  of  spiritually  aid- 
ing the  members  of  a  parish,  whereas,  the  laity, 
whether  they  recognize  it  or  not,  have  almost  an 
equal  responsibility.  The  clergyman  does  spiritual 

[  91  ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

work,  not  because  he  is  a  clergyman,  but  because 
he  is  a  Christian ;  though  his  special  vocation  de- 
termines the  exaft  form  his  work  should  take.  If 
there  were  more  intelligent  sympathy  among  the 
members  of  the  congregation  one  with  another, 
what  strength  would  come  to  the  penitent  strug- 
gling to  his  feet,  what  added  power  to  the  faith- 
ful !  Many  fail,  not  because  the  clergy  have  been 
negligent,  but  because  those  who  are  termed  the 
brethren  have  never  extended  a  helping  hand  to 
support,  to  comfort,  to  cheer.  If  a  congregation 
were  alive  to  these  responsibilities  outside  of  the 
church,  what  a  glorious  time  would  be  the  gather- 
ing within  its  walls  —  inspiring,  thrilling  !  Indeed, 
any  one  who  tries  to  be  unselfish  and  to  a6t  in  the 
common  concerns  of  life  with  reference  to  his 
neighbour's  interests,  any  one  who  has  elsewhere 
learned  ever  so  little  about  intercession,  cannot  be 
unmindful  when  he  comes  to  church  of  those  who 
worship  by  his  side,  strangers  though  they  be.  By 
the  exercise  of  sympathy,  sympathy  which  he  has 
learned  to  kindle  with  less  at  hand  to  quicken  it  to 
life  than  that  given  by  the  living,  breathing  forms 
near  by,  he  can  bring  close  to  him  his  fellow-wor- 
shippers, moving  into  the  shadow  of  their  inter- 
cessions as  well  as  calling  them  in  to  share  his  own. 

[  92  ] 


THE    CHURCH   IN   PRATER 

It  will  be  noticed  that  the  usual  order  has  been 
reversed  in  the  foregoing.  Usually  men  are  urged 
to  worship  well  that  they  may  live  well;*  the 
proposition  that  has  been  made  here  is  that  men 
must  live  well  if  they  would  worship  well.  It 
makes  little  difference  which  way  the  thought  is 
expressed,  the  mode  of  expression  depending  on 
the  part  of  the  circle  at  which  we  begin  our  course. 
Life  runs  up  into  worship  and  worship  runs  out 
into  life.  Each  leads  into  the  other. 
The  use  of  a  liturgy  is  an  added  power  to  public 
worship.  It  is  only  by  liturgical  aids  that  public 
worship  can  become  common  worship.  A  liturgy 
delivers  a  congregation  from  the  spiritual  idiosyn- 
crasies of  a  minister  as  well  as  disciplining  those 
of  the  worshippers  themselves.  The  comprehen- 
siveness and  symmetry,  the  saneness  and  dignity 
of  the  Book  of  Common  Prayer  are  educative 
forces  of  enormous  value.  Left  to  themselves  men 
lose  the  true  perspe6live  of  things  ;  they  dwell  too 
much  on  matters  of  secondary  importance,  and 
become  insular  in  their  outlook.  A  liturgy  comes 
in  as  a  corrective  of  these  constitutional  failings ; 
it  confronts  us  with  all  that  is  vast  in  the  realm 
of  truth ;  it  calls  us  away  from  the  consideration 
*  See  p,  7. 

[  93  ] 


WITH  GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

of  those  things  over  which  we  have  pondered  until 
morbidness  has  seized  upon  us ;  it  ministers  that 
grateful  rest  which  comes  from  the  mind  being 
freed  from  the  contemplation  of  one  set  of  inter- 
ests, by  being  caught  away  by  and  absorbed  in 
new  and  wider  interests ;  it  rounds  out  the  devo- 
tional life  ;  it  invites  us  to  lean  upon  the  prayers 
of  others  as  we  desire  them  to  lean  on  ours. 
All  who  aspire  to  worship  well  in  the  congrega- 
tion must  note  that  the  liturgy  sets  the  tone  for 
all  devotions.  Those  who  in  private  aflfedl  spiritual 
exercises  foreign  to  the  charadler  of  the  Prayer 
Book  of  the  Church,  may  get  a  certain  emotional 
satisfa6tion  for  the  moment,  but  they  purchase 
the  luxury  at  the  cost  of  weakening  their  power 
for  common  worship.  Their  private  prayers  form 
no  preparation  for  their  public  prayers.  The  clergy 
have  it  as  a  grave  responsibility  to  see  that  the 
books  of  private  devotion  which  they  put  into 
the  hands  of  their  people  are  such  as  fit  into  the 
Church's  system. 

Demeanour  in  the  congregation  is  a  small  thing  to 
think  of  after  the  great  central  theme  that  has  been 
holding  our  attention.  But  nothing  is  unworthy  of 
consideration  which  bears  on  the  perfedling  of 
common  worship ;  and  with  two  simple  observa- 
[  94  ] 


THE    CHURCH  IN   PRATER 

tlons  on  demeanour  this  chapter  will  be  closed. 
First,  regarding  the  self-consciousness  that  both 
distresses  the  soul  and  weakens  its  devotional 
power.  The  sense,  while  in  the  a6t  of  prayer,  of 
being  observed  by  others,  is  distracting.  But  is  it 
not  a  piece  of  conceit  to  imagine  that  we  are  being 
observed,  widely  at  any  rate,  as  well  as  something 
akin  to  an  insult  to  those  about  us  ?  Are  we  not 
implicitly  charging  them  with  negleft  of  duty  and 
with  irreverence  ?  After  all  they  are  probably  oc- 
cupied with  their  devotions  as  we  ourselves  should 
be.  The  simplest  way  of  conquering  the  distrac- 
tion when  it  arises  is  to  take  the  person  or  persons 
concerned  into  our  prayers  by  a  conscious  adl. 
Then  in  the  second  place,  as  to  our  own  behav- 
iour, it  is  only  common  charity  to  avoid  singular- 
ity of  conduft.  Most  of  the  ordinary  a6ts  of  rever- 
ence which  the  individual  may  pra6tise,  can  be  so 
unobtrusively  performed  as  not  to  attraft  notice. 
But  when  there  is  a  danger  of  causing  distraftion 
to  others,  as  in  a  strange  parish  for  instance,  it  is 
more  conducive  to  real  reverence  to  omit  than  to 
observe  them.  Sometimes  the  best  way  to  be  loyal 
to  a  principle  is  deliberately  to  break  a  rule,  and 
if  this  suggestion  be  reasonable  then  why  should 
not  a  person,  unaccustomed  to  ornate  ritual,  fall 
[  95  ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 
in  with  any  legitimate  customs  observed,  if  he  finds 
himself  at  any  time  in  a  church  where  such  cus- 
toms obtain  ? 


[  96  ] 


Ci^aptet  V 


"the  Greaf  A5i  of  Worship 


HE  Eucharist  is  the  Church's  great 
central  aft  of  corporate  worship.  It 
would  be  strange,  considering  the 
origin  of  this  wonderful  mystery, 
were  it  otherwise.  Even  those  who  regard  it  as  a 
bare  memorial  of  the  historic  occurrence  of  Christ's 
Passion  and  nothing  more,  however  highly  they 
may  honour  the  ordinary  round  of  prayer  and 
praise,  approach  the  Eucharist  with  unwonted 
awe. 

Of  course  no  one  conception  of  its  charafter  is 
complete,  as  its  various  and  stately  names  testify. 
So  bound  up  with  the  Person  of  our  Lord  is  it, 
that,  as  new  treasures  of  knowledge  are  laid  open 
concerning  Him  who  is  the  eternal  Son  of  God, 
this  feast  of  rich  things  is  proportionately  enriched 
to  the  participant.  Says  Jeremy  Taylor  in  hisquaint 
and  reverent  way:  "The  Holy  Communion  or 
Supper  of  the  Lord  is  the  most  sacred,  mysterious 
and  useful  conjugation  of  secret  and  holy  things 
[  97  ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

and  duties  in  the  religion."*  And  withal  it  is,  in 
essence,  of  all  simple  things  the  most  simple  —  a 
meal,  a  meal  transformed  and  exalted,  it  is  true, 
but  still  a  meal.  However  difficult  the  liturgy  may 
be  for  unlearned  folk,  the  sacrament  itself,  "the 
breaking  of  the  bread,"  is  easily  understood  by 
every  one,  even  the  least  wise.  Nor  is  it  hard  to 
reconcile  the  idea  of  a  feast  with  this  meagre  meal 
of  a  morsel  of  bread  and  a  sip  of  wine  ;  for  every- 
day experience  has  prepared  us  for  the  conveyance 
of  great  wealth  through  what  has  no  intrinsic  ex- 
cellence. If  a  scrap  of  paper  can  have  the  value  of 
heaps  of  gold,  and,  by  the  law  of  association,  an 
age- worn  trinket  can  become  of  priceless  worth,  it 
suggests  no  unreality  to  claim  that  under  certain 
conditions  a  simple  meal  becomes  a  royal  banquet, 
filling  heart  and  soul  and  mind,  and  admitting  into 
the  very  presence  of  the  Most  Holy  and  Most 
High.  There  is  diversity  in  the  explication  of  this 
aft  of  worship,  but  whatever  difference  of  opinion 
there  may  be  regarding  its  exaft  nature,  those 
most  widely  separated  in  thought  will  agree  in 
this,  that  it  is  a  profound  rite,  and  that  in  it  is 
spiritual  wealth.  And  in  these  days,  when  at  last 
men  are  beginning  to  perceive  that  truth  is  always 
*  Works :  Fol.  'viii.  p.  i%. 

[  98  ] 


THE    GREAT   ACT   OF    WORSHIP 

greater  than  its  best  definition,  no  one  will  con- 
tend that  what  he  sees  in  the  Eucharist  is  all  that 
it  contains.* 

The  best  commentary  on  the  Eucharist  is  the  clos- 
ing chapter  of  our  Lord's  mortal  career.  The  Son 
of  Man,  as  He  approached  the  Cross,  drew  nigh 
to  that  which  throughout  His  ministry  He  had 
viewed  as  a  goal ;  the  crucifixion  was  what  He 
had  been  preparing  Himself  for  in  all  that  He  said 
and  did  throughout  His  human  experience  ;  His 
whole  life  was  indeed  a  "long  going  forth  to 
death."  He  aspired  to  reach  the  moment  when 
He  would  be  lifted  up  from  the  earth.  He  saw 
and  predi6led  with  composure  all  the  horror  and 
shame  of  the  Passion,  the  betrayal  and  desertion, 
the  scourging  and  spitting.  But  He  saw  even  more 
clearly  the  dignity  and  wonder  and  majesty  of  the 
opportunity  contained  in  it  all,  and  spoke  of  it 
with  suppressed  joy  :  "I  have  a  baptism  to  be  bap- 
tized with  ;  and  how  am  I  straitened  till  it  be  ac- 
*  It  is  not  easy  to  be  understood^  it  is  not  lightly  to  be  received -^ 
it  is  not  much  opened  in  the  ^writings  of  the  Ne^w  Testament^ 
but  still  left  in  its  mysterious  nature ;  it  is  too  much  untnvisted 
and  nicely  handled  by  the  ^writings  of  the  do5lors ;  and  by  them 
made  more  mysterious,  and  like  a  doBrine  of  philosophy  made 
intricate  by  expUcatiofis,  and  difficult  by  the  apperture  and  dis- 
solution of  distindions .  —  Jeremy  Taylor,  Works,  'vol.  <viii,p.  8. 

[  99  ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

complished  ! "  The  Cross  would  test  to  the  full 
His  obedience  to  God  and  reveal  to  what  lengths 
Divine  love  would  go  to  redeem  sinful  man.  When 
men  near  the  goal  of  their  innocent  ambition  their 
cup  of  joy  is  full ;  nor  was  Christ's  less  than  full. 
In  the  first  Eucharist  the  pain  of  self-sacrifice  for 
the  time  being  was  lost  in  the  joy  of  self-fulfilment. 
When  He  took  the  bread  and  the  wine  and  said, 
"This  is  My  Body  which  is  broken  for  you," 
"This  is  My  Blood  which  is  shed  for  you,"  He 
made  the  sacrifice  of  Himself.  It  is  this  a<5l  which 
separates  His  death  from  all  other  deaths,  trans- 
forming the  crucifixion  from  a  judicial  murder 
into  a  triumph  of  self-oblation.  It  is  not  the  Cross 
which  explains  the  Eucharist,  but  rather  the  Eu- 
charist which  explains  the  Cross.  *  Eliminate  the 
Eucharist  from  the  story  of  the  Passion  and  our 
Lord's  death  sinks  from  the  atoning  a6l  by  which 
the  world  is  reconciled  to  God  into  a  mere  aft  of 
resignation  to  a  painful  fate,  to  be  classed  with  the 
death  of  Socrates  and  like  heroes.  It  is  the  Eucha- 
rist that  enables  us  to  say  that  the  crucifixion  was 
a  sacrifice ;  that  however  true  it  is  that  Christ  was 
put  to  death  by  sinful  men,  it  is  a  truth  of  greater 
magnitude  that,  according  to  His  repeated  predic- 
*  Milne. 

[    100   ] 


THE    GREAT  ACT   OF   WORSHIP 

tion,  He  laid  down  His  life  for  His  friends ;  that 
the  Cross  of  Calvary,  and  through  it  every  cross 
that  bow^s  the  shoulders  of  men,  has  become  the 
instrument  of  viftory  and  a  school  of  obedience 
and  sympathy. 

No  aft  of  Christ  was  a  mere  personal  experience. 
The  Son  of  Man,  as  in  loving  sympathy  He  de- 
clared Himself  to  be,  was  the  Universal  Charac- 
ter whose  life  must  needs  concern  and  touch  all 
other  lives.  It  was  His  expressed  desire  that  His 
fellows  should  share  all  that  He  was  and  did.  He, 
the  Son  of  God,  became  the  Son  of  Man  that  we 
might  become  Sons  of  God.*  Therefore  it  is  not 
surprising  that,  at  this  the  supreme  moment  of  His 
life.  He  should  bid  the  representative  group  who 
companied  with  Him,  and  through  them  all  men, 
come  in  and  participate  in  its  power  and  joy ;  He 
did  not  merely  lay  down  His  life,  but  asked  others 
to  enter  into  His  experience,  saying,  "Take,  eat ; 
this  is  My  Body,"  "Drink  ye  all  of  this;  this  is 
My  Blood."  For  what  is  the  import  of  this  invita- 
tion but  this?  "Associate  yourselves  with  Me, — 
aye,  be  one  with  Me,  incorporated  into  Me,  in 
this  great  moment  of  self-oftering ;  for  I  would 
present  you  a  willing  surrender  in  and  with  My- 
*  2  Cor.  "viii:  9. 

[   loi  ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

self."  The  idea  of  at-one-ment  was  never  more 
intelligible  than  in  these  latter  days.  We  are  be- 
coming more  and  more  conscious  of  how  close- 
wrought  are  the  fibres  of  the  human  race;  we 
recognize  how  the  life  of  any  one  man  affefts  the 
life  of  his  fellows,  and  how  the  individual  can 
gather  into  his  own  soul  the  sorrows  and  joys,  the 
perplexities  and  aspirations  of  many  people.  If  this 
is  part  of  the  experience  of  a  son  of  man,  it  fol- 
lows that  the  Son  of  Man,  by  the  extension  and 
completion  of  that  quality  which,  when  found  in 
us,  is  known  as  sympathy,  if  by  nothing  else  be- 
yond,— and  the  charadter  of  His  personality  tells 
us  there  is  much  beyond  that  is  inexplicable  —  not 
only  may  but  must  take  into  Himself  and  hold 
there  for  time  and  eternity  the  whole  race  —  ex- 
cept so  far,  alas,  as  men  struggle  from  the  freedom 
of  His  embrace  into  the  slavery  of  a  false  independ- 
ence. Thus  the  Eucharist  is  the  divinely  chosen 
means  whereby  we  men  are  invited  to  enter  into, 
and  consciously  to  appropriate  the  highest  points 
of  the  victory  of  the  Cross  as  well  as  what  lies  be- 
yond,— the  resurre6tion  life.  Through  it  He  shares 
with  us  His  life-giving  death  and  His  deathless  life, 
His  Divine  nature  and  His  perfe6l  humanity,  and 
we  are  "accepted  in  the  Beloved.'* 

[     102    ] 


THE    GREAT  ACT   OF   WORSHIP 

The  various  titles  of  the  sacrament  of  Christ's 
Body  and  Blood  suggest  its  various  aspects,*  one 
of  w^hich,  and  that  the  one  that  happily  is  most 
common  in  our  Church,  we  shall  consider  —  the 
Holy  Communion.  This  title  indicates  the  view 
of  the  sacrament  which  most  readily  appeals  to 
the  human  heart.  The  Holy  Communion  means, 
of  course,  "the  Holy  Fellowship"  —  not  "a"  but 
"the,"  that  fellowship  which  above  all  others  is 
holy,  the  end  of  which  is  to  make  all  who  partici- 
pate in  it  holy.  It  is  fellowship  with  the  Father  in 
Christ  —  not  merely  with  Christ;  that  is  not  the 
whole  of  it,  for  Christ,  the  Son  of  God  and  the 
Son  of  Man  as  He  is,  is  the  "Way"  to  the  Fa- 
ther. Nor  is  it  an  ordinary  fellowship,  of  which 
the  fellowship  of  mere  men  is  a  complete  image. 
Ordinary  fellowship  allows  two  lives  to  intertwine  ; 
but  here  so  close  is  the  relationship  that  "Christ 
with  us,"  "we  with  Christ"  is  inadequate  to  de- 
scribe the  intimacy,  and  "we  in  Christ,"  "Christ 
in  us,"  phrases  which  no  one  dare  to  apply  to  any 
other  friendship,  can  alone  tell  the  tale.  And  "we 
in  Christ"  not  "Christ  in  us"  is  the  grander  and 

*  See  a  'valuable  little  book.  Some  Titles  and  AspeSls  of  the 
Eucharist,  by  E.  S.  Talbot,  D.  D.  (Bishop  of  Rochester).  Ri^- 
ingtOTij  Perci'val  &  Co.,  London. 

[    103    ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

more  frequent  phrase.  "In  Christ"  tells  of  the  un- 
measured wealth  of  fellowship,  divine  and  human, 
which  is  the  Christian  heritage ;  it  is  the  whole 
parable  of  the  vine  and  the  branches  in  two  syl- 
lables.* This  is  the  Godward  aspe6l  of  the  sacra- 
ment. And  in  this  connection  three  things  are  to 
be  noted :  — 

§  I.  Every  fresh  communion  is  a  new  point  of  con- 
taft  with  God  in  Christ  through  the  working  of 
the  Eternal  Spirit ;  each  last  communion  means 
more  than  any  of  those  which  have  gone  before, 
as  even  in  our  association  with  a  human  friend 
new  qualities  and  untried  depths  of  familiar  char- 
acteristics are  revealed  in  each  successive  a6t  of 
intercourse.  Friendship  is  taken  up  day  by  day  on 
a  higher  level  than  formerly,  because  of  these  new 
glimpses  of  the  inner  recesses  of  life  which  are 
caught  from  time  to  time  as  friends  meet.  And 
frequent  repetition  of  the  sacrament  ought  no 
more  to  impair  its  value,  than  frequent  meetings 
the  reality  of  friendship. 

§  2.  Communion  is  only  begun  and  not  ended  at 
the  altar.  It  is  something  more  than  a  touch  for  a 
moment.  Grace  is  not  the  infusion  of  some  mys- 
terious spiritual  property,  v/hich  God  having  im- 
*  Bp.  Alexander. 

[    104    ] 


THE    GREAT  ACT   OF    WORSHIP 

parted  leaves  the  recipient  to  make  use  of  by  him- 
self; grace  is  the  gift  of  God's  personal  working  in 
the  life  through  the  indwelling  spirit.  God  never 
holds  His  faithful  children  one  moment  to  let 
them  go  the  next.  He  enfolds  us  in  Himself  with 
a  tightening  embrace,  as  by  loyalty  to  His  laws 
and  repeated  ads  of  faith,  we  expose  new  portions 
of  our  nature  for  Him  to  lay  hold  on.  The  sense  of 
God's  presence  may  be  peculiarly  full  as  we  kneel 
to  receive  the  heavenly  food,  just  as  at  the  moment 
of  meeting  again  one  whom  we  love  the  emotions 
are  deeply  stirred ;  but  by  virtue  of  yesterday's  com- 
munion, God  is  as  near  at  hand  to-day  as  He  was 
when  we  received  the  sacrament.  The  Holy  Com- 
munion would  fail  in  its  purpose  if  it  made  the  pre- 
sence of  our  Lord  a  reality  only  for  the  time  being, 
and  did  not  more  fully  introduce  men  into  the  Di- 
vine presence  as  an  abiding  state.  The  fa6l  of  God's 
immanence  in  us  requires  this  conclusion. 
§  3.  The  result  of  a  faithful  reception  of  the  Holy 
Communion  should  be  holiness  in  the  common, 
everyday  life,  from  which  an  incident,  the  family 
meal,  is  borrowed  and  transformed  as  the  symbol 
and  means  by  which  all  other  incidents  may  be 
transformed.  So  great  a  mystery  demands  all  the 
majesty  of  a  liturgy  and  the  accompaniment  of 
[   105   ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

stately  worship  ;  and  a  dignified  ritual  attached  to 
this  representative,  this  common  a6t  of  our  human 
life,  is  most  valuable  as  indicating  the  majesty  of 
all  that  is  commonplace  v\rhen  it  is  touched  by 
God.  Just  as  we  consecrate  certain  times  and  sea- 
sons in  order  that  all  times  and  seasons  may  be- 
come holy,  so  in  the  sacraments  God  has  taught 
us  to  consecrate  the  simplest  a6ls  of  ordinary  life 
—  the  bath  and  the  meal  —  as  typical  of  the  poten- 
tial sacredness  of  all  a6ls,  and  as  a  means  of  sanc- 
tifying and  ennobling  them.  So  the  Holy  Com- 
munion touches  alike  private  life  and  life  in  society, 
the  life  of  recreation  and  the  life  of  business,  and 
unless  it  transfigures  each  of  these  departments  of 
human  experience  it  falls  short  of  its  purpose.  Let 
the  business  man  remember  that  he  strains  to  see 
and  touch  the  Most  Holy  at  the  altar  that  he  may 
see  and  touch  the  Most  Holy  in  the  market ;  let 
the  professional  man  and  the  man  of  letters,  the 
day  labourer  and  the  scientist  each  in  his  sphere 
be  carried  from  the  vision  of  God  in  the  Eucharist 
to  the  abiding  fellowship  with  God  in  his  special 
vocation.  He  who  comes  from  God  goes  to  God, 
whithersoever  his  steps  may  bear  him.  The  pre- 
sence of  our  Lord  at  the  altar  is  special  but  not 
exclusive.  It  is  not  a  lamp  lighted  for  a  moment 
[   io6  ] 


THE    GREAT  ACT   OF    WORSHIP 

and  then  put  out,  but  a  light  which  will  illumi- 
nate all  life,  and  enable  us  to  see  at  every  turn  the 
vision  of  omnipresent  Love.  It  is  one  funftion  of 
the  sacraments  to  enhance,  not  to  dim,  the  reality 
of  God's  immanence  in  all  His  works  ;  to  train  us 
to  perceive  and  apprehend  that 

Earth  'j  crammed  with  heaveji 

And  every  common  hush  afire  with  God^  — 

a  declaration  which  otherwise  would  be  held  to  be 
but  a  poet's  fickle  fancy  or  a  vague  philosophical 
idea.  Days  are  coming,  if  they  are  not  already  upon 
us,  when  in  the  midst  of  scientific  progress  and  ex- 
planation in  which  men  are  prone  to  rest  as  final, 
the  believer's  ceaseless  theme  must  be  the  Divine  in- 
dwelling. And  the  strongest  and  most  telling  means 
of  keeping  alive  this  truth  for  ourselves  and  others 
is  the  sacramental  system  of  the  Church. 
Thus  far  we  have  been  thinking  of  the  Godward 
aspedt  of  the  Holy  Communion  —  fellowship  with 
God  in  Christ.  On  its  manward  side  it  is  fellowship 
with  man  in  Christ.  As  it  sustains  us  in  Divine  fel- 
lowship and  lifts  us  continually  into  purer  heights, 
so  it  assures  us  of  our  incorporation  in  the  mystical 
Body  of  Christ,  "which  is  the  blessed  company  of 
all  faithful  people,"  and  inspires  us  to  deeper  love. 
[   107   ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

Here  again  it  is  necessary  to  recall  the  original  sim- 
ple form  of  the  sacrament,  a  form  so  simple  that, 
as  Bishop  Westcott  says  somewhere,  it  is  difficult 
in  the  earliest  references  to  it  to  distinguish  it  from 
the  ordinary  family  meal.  The  brethren  gather 
around  the  common  table  and  partake  of  the  com- 
mon loaf.*  And  the  use  of  the  one  loving-cup  from 
which  all  drink  goes  beyond  the  customs  of  ordi- 
nary family  life.  The  Holy  Communion,  which  is 
a  social  aft,  speaks  of  the  transformation  of  social 
life.t  Just  as  the  constant  sharing  of  food  at  one 
table  is  the  pledge  of  loyal  service  to  one  another 

*  Cf,  1  Cor.  X:  17.  —  "/F<?,  nvho  are  manyy  are  one  loaf^ 
The  one  serious  objeSiion  to  the  otherwise  comuenient  custom 
of  using  unlea<vened  bread  in  the  shape  of  '^wafers  is  that  the 
symbolism  of  the  common  loaf  is  lost,  and  the  poi?it  of  contact 
nvith  common  life  is  some^what  obscured. 
f  Our  Church,  by  the  title  adopted,  by  the  form  of  service  used, 
by  the  spirit  of  her  rubrics  'where  they  touch  upon  the  subjed, 
plainly  declares  it  to  be  her  intention  that  the  Holy  Communion 
should  ahjoays  be  celebrated  so  as  to  be  a  social  aSi.  The  priest 
is  not  a  mere  representati've  of  the  congregation,  doing  things 
for  them,  but  a  leader  a£ii?2g  with  them.  For  the  priest  to  aSi 
njoithout  the  congregation  is  only  less  anomalous  than  for  the 
congregation  to  aSi  ^without  the  priest.  Not  that  the  whole  con- 
gregation present  should  necessarily  recehue  at  any  gi'ven  cele- 
bration of  the  Holy  Communion,  though  in  the  judgment  of  the 
present  ^writer  the  ideal  nvould  be  reached  only  thus. 

[  108  ] 


THE    GREAT  ACT   OF    WORSHIP 

on  the  part  of  all  who  partake,  as  well  as  a  means 
of  gaining  strength  to  fulfil  the  pledge,  so  the  Holy 
Communion  is  a  pledge  to  mutual  service  and 
equipment  for  its  accomplishment.  "In  Christ"  a 
new  relationship  is  established  between  man  and 
man,  or  rather  an  old  relationship  is  deepened  and 
consummated.  Brethren  after  the  flesh  are  made 
brethren  in  the  Lord,*  Family  and  national  ties  are 
very  sacred  and  very  close,  but  they  reach  the  full 
purpose  which  God  designed  for  them  only  when 
they  become  the  basis  for  spiritual  kinship.lt  is  con- 
sidered a  dreadful  thing,  and  rightly  so,  when  mxen 
of  common  blood  are  at  variance  with  one  another ; 
nothing  is  more  shameful  than  a  family  feud.  And 
on  the  other  hand,  blood  relationship  is  in  itself  a 
demand  for  the  most  loyal  service  that  men  are  ca- 
pable of  rendering.  Now  through  the  sacramental 
life  a  kinship  is  established  and  sustained  as  real  and 
as  binding  as  that  consequent  upon  the  accident  of 
birth  ;  so  that  for  Christian  to  be  at  variance  with 
Christian  is  as  unnatural  as  it  is  for  two  of  one  fam- 
ily to  strive  with  one  another ;  for  Christian  to  over- 
reach Christian  is  as  treacherous  as  it  was  for  Jacob 
to  steal  Esau's  blessing.  The  loyalty  which  those 
who  are  "  in  Christ "  owe  one  another  is  the  loyalty 
*C/:  Philemon  i6o 

[    109   ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

due  among  those  who  sit  at  the  same  board  and  eat 
of  the  same  loaf,  among  those  in  whose  veins  runs 
the  blood  of  a  common  mother.  When  men  learn 
the  reality  and  force  of  spiritual  kinship,  social  pro- 
blems will  be  solved  and  social  evils  will  cease. 
But  a  hasty  glance  has  been  bestowed  in  the  fore- 
going pages  on  a  mystery  of  unsearchable  depth, 
and  many  of  its  aspe6ls  have  not  even  been  noted. 
The  more  obvious  aspefts  are  the  ones  upon  which 
stress  has  been  laid  as  including  in  them  all  others. 
As  with  all  other  forms  of  approach  to  God,  so 
here,  what  a  man  knows  about  the  Holy  Com- 
munion is  that  which  God  has  taught  him  in  his 
reception  of  the  Sacrament.  Those  who  would 
fain  plumb  its  depths  must  come  frequently  and 
preparedly  to  the  feast.  Nor  is  preparation  a  formal 
a6l.  It  is  unfortunate  that  some  teachers  make  it 
so  by  laying  insistence  on  a  set  form.  The  best, 
and  indeed  the  only,  true  preparation  is  an  out- 
come of  a  full  knowledge  of  the  thing  for  which 
we  wish  to  prepare  ourselves,just  as  the  best  thanks- 
giving for  a  blessing  is  the  spontaneous  utterance 
consequent  upon  a  contemplation  of  the  gift  re- 
ceived. The  man  who  knows  the  spiritual  signifi- 
cance of  the  Holy  Communion,  ipso  faSfo  knows 
how  to  prepare  to  receive  it. 
[   iio  ] 


Cl)apter  xi 


JVitnesses  unto  the  Uttermost  Part  of  the  Earth 

HE  breadth  of  the  Christian's  vision 
is  exceeded  only  by  its  height,  and 
his  influence  is  coterminous  with  no- 
thing less  than  the  human  fabric  of 
which  he  is  a  part.  By  faith  man  penetrates  into 
the  heaven  of  heavens  and  reaches  the  very  pre- 
sence of  God  himself,  a  privilege  and  duty  which 
belong  not  to  a  favoured  few  but  to  the  race. 
Too  low  they  build^  who  build  beneath  the  stars, 
is  a  truth  of  universal  application.  But  just  as  the 
stars  must  not  limit  man's  vision  as  he  gazes  up, 
neither  must  the  horizon  limit  his  vision  as  he  looks 
abroad.  Christian  energy  is  not  doing  its  full  work 
unless  it  aims  at  touching  the  uttermost  part  of  the 
earth.  That  which  is  recorded  in  A6ts  i  :  8  *  tells 
of  an  abiding  principle  and  not  merely  of  a  historic 
fa6t.  Our  Lord  is  speaking  through  that  group  of 
*  Ye  shall  be  ^witnesses  unto  me  both  in  Jerusalem,  and  in  all 
Judaa,  and  in  Samaria,  and  unto  the  uttermost  part  of  the 
earth. 

[  III  ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

representative  men  who  witnessed  His  Ascension, 
to  all  who  become  his  followers.  Not  the  Apostles 
alone  but  all  Christians  are  destined  to  be  His  wit- 
nesses "unto  the  uttermost  part  of  the  earth."  It  is 
only  to  be  expefted  that  those  who  have  the  power 
to  explore  the  secrets  of  the  divine  Being,  will  also 
have  this  lesser  power  of  world-wide  influence, 
which  after  all,  great  as  it  is,  is  infinitely  less  aspiring 
than  the  former.  The  same  faith  that  enables  us  to 
love  and  serve  our  Lord  in  heaven,  equips  us  to  love 
and  serve  the  men  of  the  remote  parts  of  the  earth. 
To  have  the  former  is  to  be  heir  to  the  latter. 
Men  who  imbibe  this  principle  and  make  it  part 
of  themselves  are  said  to  have  missionary  spirit. 
But  it  cannot  be  too  strongly  insisted  that  this 
spirit  is  not  something  over  and  above  the  common 
Christian  charafter ;  for  it  is  not  a  possession  which 
we  are  to  claim  simply  because  we  are  bidden  to 
do  so,  spurred  to  it  by  the  "very  purity  of  the  law 
of  duty."  The  missionary  spirit  is  inherent  in  Chris- 
tianity. Even  though  Christ  had  never  said,  "  Go 
ye  therefore,  and  make  disciples  of  all  the  nations,"* 
even  if  He  had  not  assured  His  followers  that  they 
were  to  be  witnesses  "unto  the  uttermost  part  of 
the  earth,"  it  would  have  made  no  pradlical  differ- 
*  St.  Matt,  xx'viii :  19. 

[  112  ] 


WITNESSES 

ence  in  the  final  issue  of  Christian  truth.  The 
Church  would  have  been  missionary  just  the  same 
—  S.  Paul,  S.  Augustine,  S.  Columba,  S.  Francis 
Xavier,  would  have  striven  for  the  Gospel's  sake 
none  the  less  boldly,  none  the  less  zealously.  The 
missionary  is  not  a  missionary  because  of  a  few 
missionary  texts  in  the  Bible.  He  is  a  missionary 
because  he  is  a  Christian.  All  Christ's  commands 
are  invitations,  which  merely  put  into  concise  lan- 
guage what  the  heart  already  recognizes  as  its  privi- 
lege and  joy.  The  missionary  commission  *  is  the 
Church's  charter,  telling  all  men  of  her  right  to 
dare  to  make  Christianity  coterminous  with  hu- 
manity, arresting  the  attention  of  those  to  whom 
the  missionary  is  sent  rather  than  adling  as  the 
sole  motive  power  of  the  missionary ;  from  it  we 
get  definite  authority,  and  so  a  measure  of  inspira- 
tion, but  we  do  not  rest  upon  it,  as  though  it  were 
by  an  arbitrary  fiat  of  God  that  a  Christian  were 
converted  into  a  missionary.t  The  latter  term  tells 

*  St.  Matt,  xx'-viii:  19,  20. 

t  'The  folh-wlng  remarkable  phrase  occurs  in  S.  Andrew's  De- 
motions:—  Who  [i.e.,  Chrisf]  hath  rnanifested  in  emery  place 
the  s amour  of  His  knomjlcdge  .  .  .  by  the  incredible  conversion 
of  the  mjorld  to  the  Faith^  'without  assistance  of  authority, 
ivithotit  intervention  of  persuasion. 

[  "3  ] 


WITH  GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

of  one  aspe6l  of  the  Christian  character,  that  is  all. 
Whoever  accepts  Christ's  Christianity — the  re- 
dundancy is  necessary  —  forthwith  becomes  a  mis- 
sionary.* Andrew  needed  no  injunction  to  seek 
Peter ;  he  did  it  because,  being  a  follower  of  Christ, 
he  could  not  help  it.  And  if  he  had  refrained,  he 
would  have  ceased  at  that  moment  to  be  a  disciple. 
Christians,  whether  considered  individually  or  cor- 
porately,  who  are  not  missionary  in  desire  and  in- 
tention, are  Christians  only  in  name,  getting  little 
from  and  contributing  nothing  to  the  religion  of 
the  Incarnation.  If  the  foregoing  contention  be 
true,  the  definition  of  "missionary"  stands  sadly 
in  need  of  revision.  A  missionary  is  an  honourable 
title  not  to  be  reserved  only  for  those  who  work 
for  God  in  the  waste  places  of  His  vineyard,  but 
the  coveted  possession  of  every  Christian  who 
strives  to  bear  a  wide  witness,  as  well  as  deep,  to 
Christ  among  men. 

Missionary  service  is  a  personal  thing ;  it  cannot 
be  deputed  to  another  any  more  than  it  can  have 
something  else  as  a  substitute  for  it.  Contributing 
money  in  order  that  others  may  be  maintained  in 
their  missionary  undertakings,  does  not  exempt 

*  T/ie  Brotherhood  of  S.  Andre^w  is  nothing  more  than  an  or- 
ganized effort  to  fulfil  a  common  Christian  duty. 

[  114  ] 


WITNESSES 

the  donor  from  personal  service  himself.  Every 
Christian  is  bound  to  strive  to  deepen  and  widen, 
by  the  force  of  his  personality  in  Christ,  the  King- 
dom of  God.  Of  course  there  is  a  narrower  and  a 
wider  missionary  spirit.  The  latter  is  reached  by 
faithfulness  to  the  former,  here  as  well  as  elsewhere 
efFedtive  breadth  beginning  in  depth.  All  mission- 
ary power  begins  (as  well  as  ends)  in  that  uncon- 
scious witness*  which  the  Christian  chara6ler 
bears  to  Christ.  So  infe6lious  a  thing  is  God's 
truth,  that  to  receive  it  is  to  spread  it. 

Js  one  lamp  lights  another  nor  grows  less. 
So  nobleness  enkindleth  nobleness. 

"Ye  are  the  light  of  the  world;"  "Ye  are  the 
salt  of  the  earth."  And  it  is  that  part  of  the  char- 
a(5ler  which  easily,  simply  and  naturally  lays  hold 
*  Cf.  Emerson  s  'verses  on  unconscious  influence : 

Little  thinks,  in  the  field,  yon  red  cloaked  clonvn. 

Of  thee  from  the  hill-top  looking  donvn  j 

The  heifer  that  lo^ivs  in  the  uplajidfarm. 

Far-heard,  Iofws  not  thine  ear  to  charm ; 

The  sexton,  tolling  his  hell  at  noon. 

Dreams  not  that  great  Napoleon 

Stops  his  horse,  and  lists  woith  delight. 

While  his  files  snveep  round  yon  Alpiiie  height; 

Nor  hio'west  thou  nvhat  argument 

Thy  life  to  thy  neighbour  s  creed  has  lent. 

[  IIS  ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

on  Christ,  that  first  sheds  God's  light  abroad  and 
becomes  the  preservative  element  of  society. 
It  is  further  noticeable  that  the  sphere  of  Christian 
influence  as  alluded  to  by  our  Lord  in  the  Sermon 
on  the  Mount,  corresponds  v^ith  the  sphere  of 
witness-bearing  marked  out  by  Him  in  His  part- 
ing words  before  the  Ascension  —  "Ye  are  the 
light  of  the  world; "  "  Ye  are  the  salt  of  the  earth ; " 
"Ye  shall  be  witnesses  unto  the  uttermost  part  of 
the  earth."  To  recognize  the  fad:  that  the  Chris- 
tian life  is  the  most  invincible  and  the  most  per- 
meating influence  that  the  world  can  ever  know, 
is  an  enormous  incentive  to  consistency  and  zeal- 
ous devotion.  Christian  character  is  the  only  force 
which  a  man  can  both  leave  behind  him,  and  take 
with  him  when  he  comes  to  die.  Nothing  can 
v/ithstand  it,  and  nothing  can  check  its  career.  It 
is  bound  to  impress  all  that  it  touches,  and  it 
touches  everything — "the  world,"  "the  earth." 
It  is  not  too  much  to  hold  that  unconscious  influence 
always  exceeds  conscious  influence,  the  latter  reach- 
ing the  zenith  of  its  eflfeftiveness  only  when  it  has 
been  transformed,  by  constant  use,  into  the  former. 
It  is  in  the  home  that  the  Christian  begins  that  wit- 
ness-bearing, which  is  destined  to  reach  so  far. 
But  the  widest  missionary  spirit  is  inclusive.  It 
[   "6  ] 


WITNESSES 

is  not  a  substitute  for  home  work,  any  more  than 
pubHc  life  is  a  substitute  for  family  life.  The  former 
is  the  extension  of  the  latter.  The  disciples  of  the 
first  days  reached  the  uttermost  part  of  the  earth 
through  Jerusalem  and  all  Judaea  and  Samaria; 
while  the  disciples  of  these  latter  days  must  touch 
the  bounds  of  the  world  through  the  parish,  the 
diocese,  the  Church  of  the  nation.  Nothing,  no 
matter  how  fine  and  striking  it  may  be,  can  take 
the  place  of  loyalty  to  the  duties  that  are  nearest  at 
hand.  Church  hfe  may  be  conceived  of  as  a  series 
of  concentric  circles,  the  innermost  of  which  re- 
presenting parochial  relations,  the  next  diocesan 
missions,  then  domestic,  and  the  outermost  circle 
foreign  missions.  Power  to  traverse  the  large  cir- 
cumference comes  from  faithfully  treading  the 
round  of  those  that  lie  within,  beginning  with  that 
next  the  centre.  The  only  way  to  have  power  and 
to  serve  abroad  is  to  live  a  deep  full  life  at  home, 
and,  let  it  be  added,  the  only  way  to  have  large 
power  and  to  serve  at  home  is  to  cast  the  eye  far 
abroad  and  wind  the  interests  of  a  whole  world 
around  the  heart.  And  the  spiritual  force  of  the 
foreign  mission  field  is  no  lying  index  of  the  spirit- 
ual condition  of  the  home  Church  ;  it  tells  the  tale 
as  truly  as  the  pulse  reports  for  the  heart.  It  may 

[  117  ] 


IVITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

be  perfe6tly  true  of  every  other  society  of  men  that 
mere  concentration  is  the  secret  of  power,  but  it 
is  not  so  with  the  Church.  Any  ecclesiastical  unit, 
be  it  parish,  diocese,  province,  or  national  Church, 
which  is  content  to  feed  itself  on  rich  spiritual 
food,  without  regard  for  the  rest  of  the  world,  will 
sooner  or  later  be  filled  with  disease  and  die.  How- 
ever specious  a  form  self-contemplation  may  as- 
sume, it  inevitably  ends  in  ruin,  for  it  leads  to 
isolation  ;  and  what  is  isolation  but  the  most  awful 
and  irretrievable  of  catastrophes  ?  The  only  true 
independence  is  that  which  is  the  fruit  of  inter- 
dependence. A  given  Church  may  have  all  the  ap- 
pearance of  life  —  there  may  be  popularity,  large 
property,  handsome  equipment  and  other  signs  of 
outward  prosperity  —  but  within  there  is  nothing 
but  death.  It  is  just  as  wrong  and  just  as  fatal  to 
hold  aloof,  on  any  plea  soever,  from  the  common 
life  of  the  entire  Church  at  home  and  abroad,  as  it 
is  to  cut  ourselves  off  from  the  Church  of  the  past  by 
a  denial  of  fundamental  truth.  The  former,  quite  as 
much  as  the  latter,  is  a  departure  from  Apostolic 
Christianity,  and  so  merits  the  opprobrious  name 
of  schism. 

It  is  a  strange  but  inflexible  spiritual  law,  that  those 

who  aim  at  anything  short  of  the  best  according  to 

[  "8  ] 


WITNESSES 

their  conception,  as  God  has  given  them  h'ght,  will 
sooner  or  later  come  to  grief.  It  is  merely  a  matter 
of  time.  The  hope  of  Christianity  lies  in  its  bold- 
ness. The  Church  is  strong  when  she  is  daring, 
and  only  then  ;  her  strength  rises  and  falls  with  her 
courage  —  vidory  is  faith.*  What  an  inspiration 
to  every  parish,  the  lowliest  and  poorest  as  well  as 
the  numerically  strong  and  financially  rich  !  —  the 
uttermost  part  of  the  earth  is  within  the  reach  of 
its  influence :  ay,  more  than  that,  is  in  need  of  its 
prayers  and  its  labours.  Work  for  foreign  missions 
is  the  climax  and  crown  of  Christian  life,  not  a 
sluggish  tributary  to  it.  And  a  parish  will  be  in  the 
vanguard  of  God's  forces  or  far  in  the  rear,  accord- 
ing as  it  rises  to  its  responsibility  in  this  diredion 
or  not. 

There  is  an  immense  amount  of  untutored  mis- 
sionary desire.  That  is  to  say,  there  are  vast  num- 
bers of  Christians  whose  hearts  burn  towards  those 
who  do  not  know  Christ,  but  there  is  no  man  to 
teach  them  how  to  crystallize  desire  into  prayer 
and  adion  and  let  the  stream  of  their  desire  run 
clear  and  full ;  there  are  many  others,  too,  who 
have  a  narrow  missionary  spirit  and  who  linger  in 
Judaea  and  Samaria,  only  because  they  have  never 
*  I  Jo/in  "v :  4. 

r  "9  ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

been  shown  how  it  is  possible  to  reach  unto  the 
uttermost  part  of  the  earth.  The  fire  is  there,  but 
it  smoulders  for  want  of  fuel.  Men  need  direftion 
for  their  missionary  aspirations ;  they  need  to  be 
instructed  in  the  work  that  is  being  done.  We  can- 
not expeft  people  to  be  interested  in  what  they 
know  nothing  about.  If  the  cause  of  missions  is 
presented  as  an  abstraftion,  and  men  are  urged  to 
give  "on  principle,"  the  gifts  that  come  will  be 
such  as  cost  the  givers  nothing.  And  as  for  prayers 

well,  there  will  be  none,  for  prayers  cannot  live 

on  abstractions.  The  clergy  should  be  the  leaders 
in  making  the  missions  of  the  Church  a  living 
thing ;  and  it  is  nothing  short  of  a  scandal  that  so 
many  pulpits  are  closed  to  those  who  wear  the 
title  of  "missionary."  But  whatever  be  the  short- 
comings of  the  clergy,  there  is  no  more  reason 
why  Christian  laymen  should  be  ignorant  of  the 
general  features  of  Church  work  in  the  far  West 
or  in  China  and  Japan  than  that  they  should  be 
ignorant  of  international   politics;  and  there  is 
more  reason  for  shame  on  account  of  ignorance  in 
the  former  than  in  the  latter  case.  Once  waken 
men's  interest  in  the  work  abroad  as  a  concrete 
reality,  and  there  will  be  stronger  prayer,  more 
numerous  offers  for  personal  service   in   foreign 

[    120    ] 


TVITN  ESSES 

work  from  the  best  and  bravest,  more  liberal  con- 
tributions in  money. 

It  has  already  been  hinted  that  not  only  does  the 
uttermost  part  of  the  earth  need  Christianity,  but 
that  Christianity  needs  the  uttermost  part  of  the 
earth.  We  cannot  fully  know  Christ  until  all  the 
nations  have  seen  and  believed  and  told  their  vision. 
The  Church  of  God  is  poor,  in  that  it  lacks  the 
contribution  which  the  un-Christianized  nations 
alone  can  give  by  being  evangelized.  Just  as  the 
speculative  East  needed  in  the  first  days  the  practi- 
cal West  to  balance  its  concept  of  the  Gospel,  and 
vice  versa^  so  it  is  now.  Before  we  can  see  the  full 
glory  of  the  Incarnation,  representatives  of  all  na- 
tions must  blend  their  vision  with  that  which  has 
already  been  granted.  Every  separate  stone  must 
be  set  before  the  temple  reaches  its  final  splendour. 
Foreign  missions  are  as  much  for  the  Church's  sake 
as  for  the  heathen's,  as  much  for  the  eternal  profit 
of  those  who  are  sent  as  for  those  to  v/hom  they 

go. 

No  attempt  has  been  made  in  these  pages  to  argue 
as  with  men  who  do  not  believe  in  the  widest  mis- 
sionary enterprise,  for  missionary  spirit  is  not  cre- 
ated by  argument.  Indeed,  many  an  objedlion  is 
but  the  instrument  by  which  persons  convift  them- 

[     121    ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

selves  of  being  Christian  only  in  name.  There  is  no 
answer  to  what  they  say  excepting,  "Of  course 
you  cannot  believe  in  missions,  because  it  is  evi- 
dent you  do  not  believe  in  Christ.  To  believe  in 
Christ  is  to  believe  in  missions,  missions  unto  the 
uttermost  part  of  the  earth."  It  would  be  a  shame 
to  appear  to  apologize  for  what  is  of  the  essence 
of  Christianity.  So  we  turn  away  from  all  smaller 
reasoning,  to  the  one  great  spring  and  impulse  of 
mission  work  far  and  near.  The  Christian  has  to 
see  those  whom  Christ  sees,  for  the  follower  looks 
through  his  master's  eyes;  the  Christian  has  to 
love  and  serve  those  whom  Christ  loves  and  serves, 
for  the  follower  lives  only  in  his  master's  spirit. 
Consequently,  he  must  see,  love  and  serve  unto 
the  uttermost  part  of  the  earth.  Being  a  follower 
of  Christ,  he  cannot  help  it ;  he  does  it  for  the 
same  reason  and  with  the  same  naturalness  that 
the  sun  shines  and  the  rose  sheds  its  fragrance 
abroad. 


[    122    ] 


Ci^apter  xii 


The  Inspiration  of  Responsibility 


HE  responsibility  of  the  sons  of  God 
has  been  the  theme  of  this  book,  and 
the  writer  trusts  that  in  dwelling 
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^  upon  the  duties  of  the  Christian  life 
he  has  not  failed  to  bring  out  something  of  its  glory 
and  inspiration.  But  the  thing  out  of  which  we  can 
gather  the  largest  help  to  fulfil  our  responsibility  is 
the  responsibility  itself.  If  God  dwells  high  up  on 
the  hills  of  difficulty,  He  has  a  throne,  too,  in  the 
heart  of  every  claim  made  on  human  character.* 
The  presence  in  our  life  of  a  difficulty  is  a  call  to 
responsibility, and  the  acceptanceof  a  responsibility 
is  the  admittance  into  personal  experience  of  God 
in  His  triumphant  march  toward  the  great  consum- 
mation ;  it  is  correspondence  with  victory.  Just  as 
the  glory  of  duty  consists,  not  in  its  immediate  is- 
sue, but  in  its  performance,  so  the  main  inspiration 
for  responsibility  comes  not  from  external  goads 
and  spurs,  but  from  the  very  thing  which  lies  at  our 
*  See  Appendix. 

[    123    ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

feet,  looking  at  first  sight  like  a  task  given  to  mock 
rather  than  inspire,  to  denude  of  what  little  power 
we  have  rather  than  to  equip,  to  undo  the  would- 
be  doer  rather  than  to  be  done  by  him.  Responsi- 
bility without  doubt  is  a  task,  but  much  more  is  it  an 
inspiration.  Of  course  the  measure  of  inspiration 
which  it  imparts  is  proportionate  to  the  faith  and 
courage  with  which  it  is  approached.  Responsibility 
handled  with  dilettante  fingers  will  only  cut  and 
wound  ;  grasped  in  firm  embrace,  it  will  bestow  so 
much  illumination  and  vigour  that  the  pain  which 
inaugurates  the  gift  will  be  forgotten  almost  before 
the  last  ache  has  faded  out.  And  again,  it  is  not  too 
much  to  say  that  the  greater  a  responsibility  is,  the 
greater  is  its  power  to  inspire.  In  other  words,  in- 
spiration is  always  commensurate  with  responsi- 
bihty.  "As  thy  days,  so  shall  thy  strength  be."  In 
the  common  Christian  duty,  which  has  been  out- 
lined in  the  foregoing  pages,  so  great  is  the  respon- 
sibility imposed  that  nothing  short  of  the  highest 
conceivable  incentive  can  carry  a  man  through. 
And  the  inspiration  lies  within  the  task  and  will 
declare  itself  only  in  the  doing  of  the  task. 
Even  on  the  natural  side  man  finds  attradlion  and 
inspiration  in  problems,  puzzles  and  difficulties."* 
*  See  Prof.  William  James  i?iy  Is  Life  Worth  Li<vi)ig  ?  "  Too 
[    124    ] 


The  INSPIRATION  of  RESPO NS IB ILITT 
No  sooner  is  one  problem  solved  or  one  difficulty 
surmounted  than  another  is  eagerly  sought  for  and 
grappled  with.  The  spice  of  life  lies  in  its  antago- 
nisms.* It  is  not  the  prospe6l  of  some  reward  of 
wealth  or  honour  that  carries  men  to  the  crown 
of  their  task ;  it  is  the  joy  of  the  doing,  a  joy  that 
is  felt  even  in  those  preliminary  experimentations 
which  only  pave  the  way  to  the  real  undertaking. 
Men — we  are  not  thinking  of  butterflies  —  can- 
not exist  without  difficulty.  To  be  shorn  of  it 
means  death,  because  inspiration  is  bound  up  with 
it,  and  inspiration  is  the  breath  of  God,  without 
the  constant  influx  of  which  man  ceases  to  be  a 
living  soul.  Responsibility  is  the  sacrament  of  in- 
spiration. The  miracles  of  Christ,  whatever  else 
they  did,  suggested  new  responsibility  to  the  race, 
opened  up  a  new  field  of  daring  and  enlarged  the 

muc/i  questioning  a?id  too  little  a5ii<ve  responsibility  leady  almost 
as  often  as  too  muck  sensualism  does,  to  the  edge  of  the  slope,  at 
the  bottom  of^hich  lie  pessimism  and  the  nightmare  or  suici- 
dal 'vieiv  of  life. ''^ 

*  See  Dr.  John  Fiske  in  his  recently  published,  Through  Na- 
ture to  God,  ivhere  in  a  study  of  the  Mystery  of  E'vil,  he  de- 
'velopes  this  thought  most  admirably,  though  making  the 
unnecessary  deduction  that  God  is  the  creator  of  moral  evil. 


[  125  ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

scope  of  human  operations.  They  encouraged  men 
to  attempt  the  impossible ;  and  without  question 
the  hidden  but  no  less  effedlive  cause  of  all  scien- 
tific development  has  been  and  is  Christian  aspira- 
tion, roused  to  its  highest  pitch  by  the  marvels  per- 
formed by  the  Man  Christ  Jesus.  Christian  faith 
has  educated  us  to  a  belief  that  the  first  promise 
of  order  lies  in  the  discovery  of  chaos,  and  that 
every  problem  carries  in  its  own  pocket  a  key 
formed  to  fit  the  hand  of  man.  Thus  interest  in 
the  sorrows  and  perplexities  of  the  multitudes  rises 
from  a  nerveless  compassion  that  of  yore  worked 
laboriously  with  its  "law-stiffened  fingers,"  to  a 
wide-reaching  ministration  of  power ;  the  secrets 
of  nature  become  invitations  to  knowledge ;  and 
effort  that  was  once  merely  instin6live  and  ran- 
dom becomes  rational  and  triumphant. 
But  Christ  enabled  men  to  achieve  what  before 
they  had  only  sighed  after,  not  by  releasing  from, 
but  on  the  contrary  by  adding  to  human  responsi- 
bility. He  saw  the  inspiration  of  responsibility,  so  by 
making  the  latter  great  He  made  the  former  reach 
its  height ;  He  equipped  man  to  do  the  smaller 
duties  of  life  by  giving  larger  ones.  It  will  for  ever 
hold  true  that  to  bring  men  up  to  their  best,  we 
must  call  them  to  the  highest.  They  are  to  be  won, 

[  1^26  ] 


The  INSPIRATION  of  RESPONSIBILITY 

not  by  the  promise  of  a  gift,  but  by  a  ringing  call  to 
duty,  not  by  something  to  eat,  but  by  something  to 
do.  One  reason  at  least  why  Christianity  is  bound 
to  supersede  all  other  religions  is  because  of  the 
supreme  largeness  of  its  demands  on  human  charac- 
ter and  the  supreme  inspiration  that  those  demands 
contain.  The  fault  of  most  modern  prophets  is  not 
that  they  present  too  high  an  ideal,  but  an  ideal  that 
is  sketched  with  a  faltering  hand  ;  the  appeal  to  self- 
sacrifice  is  too  timid  and  imprecise,  the  challenge  to 
courage  is  too  low-voiced,  with  the  result  that  the 
tide  of  inspiration  ebbs  low.  The  call  to  each  soul 
to  contribute  its  quota  toward  the  realization  of  the 
most  remote  ideal  so  far  from  being  depressing  is 
stimulating,  and  a  necessary  goad  to  the  promotion 
of  individual  as  well  as  corporate  development. 
Mr.  Kipling's  prophetic  voice  rings  out  above  the 
Babel  of  a  garrulous  age  and  inspires  men  in  the 
only  way  they  can  be  inspired,  by  pointing  out  hu- 
man responsibility  and  bidding  men  take  up  their 
burden. 

Go  to  your  work  and  be  strongs  halting  not  on  your  ivays^ 
Balking  the  end  half -won  for  an  instant  dole  of  praise. 
Stand  to  your  work  and  be  wise,  certain  of  sword  and  pen. 
Who  are  neither  clnldren  nor  gods,  but  men  in  a  world 
of  men, 

[    127   ] 


WITH  GOD  IN  THE  WORLD 
Clothed  with  the  convidion  that  true  inspiration 
lies  in  responsibility,  what  better  words  of  inspira- 
tion can  this  closing  chapter  bear  than  what  will 
come  from  a  final  insistence  upon  the  vastness  of 
the  ordinary  man's  spiritual  responsibility  and  the 
grandeur  of  his  opportunity  ?  In  these  days  a  true 
man  rises  instinftively  to  a  broad  outlook.  He 
does  not  labour  for  his  own  self-fulfillment  and 
nothing  more.  Of  course,  every  aft  of  self-sacrifice 
for  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven's  sake  helps  toward 
that  end,  for  self-sacrifice  for  the  promotion  of 
whatever  cause  is  always  the  negative  aspe6l  of 
self-fulfillment.  But  Christians  strive  toward  the 
best  not  from  selfish  motives,  not  merely  because 
what  God  commands  must  be  done,  but  because 
He  has  opened  up  to  our  gaze  a  vision  of  His 
world-purposes  and  shown  us  that  obedience 
means  cooperation  with  Him  in  their  fulfillment. 
Thus  small  aftions  become  big  with  import.  Per- 
sonal purity  means  a  contribution  toward  the  solu- 
tion of  the  divorce  question  which  exceeds  in  its 
construftive  influence  the  most  wisely  worded  ca- 
non of  marriage.  The  commercial  honour  of  the  in- 
dividual is  the  forging  of  a  ward  in  the  key  that  will 
some  day  unlock  the  closed  door  of  the  industrial 
problem.  Faithfulness  in  spiritual  duties  in  the 

[  128  ] 


The  INSPIRATION  of  RESPONSIBILITT 
most  circumscribed  life  is  a  voice  that  reaches  the 
uttermost  part  of  the  earth  and  gives  its  undying 
vi^itness  to  all  w^ho  have  ears  to  hear.  Loyalty  and 
charity  working  hand  in  hand  in  the  Christian 
soul  will  do  as  much  as  the  most  carefully  framed 
and  comprehensive  formula  of  agreement,  to  bring 
about  that  Christian  unity  for  which  our  Lord 
prayed  *  when  His  time  was  short  and  His  thoughts 
only  upon  that  which  was  the  objedive  point  of 
the  Incarnation. 

Whether  or  not  men  recognize  the  extent  of  their 
influence,  that  influence  tells.  But  what  a  source 
of  inspiration  and  strength  is  lost  when  these  things 
are  hidden  and  one  sees  only  the  natural  side  of  life, 
the  prison-house  of  environment  and  the  task  with- 
out its  incentive  !  The  Archite6t  of  life  would  have 
His  least  workman  know  the  full  plan  and  not 
merely  that  of  the  small  bit  of  it  which  is  his  spe- 
cial care.  Once  to  discern  our  personal  relation  to 
God's  world-purposes  is  to  be  for  ever  purged  of 
dilettantism  ;  is  to  be  for  ever  emancipated  from  a 
certain  religious  littleness  that  shackles  so  many 
Christian  feet,  and  to  move  out  into  a  breadth 
which  involves  no  loss  of  depth  ;  is  to  shake  non- 
essentials into  the  background,  and  bring  funda- 
*  .S"^.  John  X'vii. 

[    129    ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

mental  truths  to  the  fore,  where  they  can  burn 
themselves  into  our  very  being ;  is  to  receive  a  nevi^ 
motive  for  living  and  doing. 
Fired  by  a  sense  of  large  responsibility,  sustained 
spiritual  effort  on  a  high  plane  becomes  possible 
for  each  in  his  ow^n  little  corner.  The  demand 
upon  men  to  pray  well,  to  seek  to  make  the  moral 
life  blameless,  and  to  deepen  and  enlarge  the  sphere 
of  service,  —  in  a  word,  to  aspire  to  the  stars  and 
reach  out  to  the  four  corners  of  the  world,  sug- 
gests privilege  rather  than  hardship  to  the  rank  and 
file  of  the  Christian  army.  The  layman  may  not 
look  to  the  priest  as  a  vicarious  man  of  prayer  and 
of  righteousness.  The  priesthood  is  representative, 
not  exclusive,  in  character  and  service.  The  priest 
is  a  man  of  prayer  not  because  he  is  a  priest,  but 
because  he  is  a  Christian,  his  priesthood  but  deter- 
mining the  accidental  features  of  his  devotional 
life.  He  is  a  holy  man  not  because  he  is  a  priest, 
but  because  he  is  a  Christian,  his  priesthood  but 
determining  the  sphere  in  which  his  holiness  is  to 
be  expressed.  The  priest  does  spiritual  work  not 
because  he  is  a  priest,  but  because  he  is  a  Christian, 
his  priesthood  but  making  him  a  leader  in  service, 
primus  Inter  pares.  Faithfulness  in  prayer,  righteous- 
ness in  life,  full  spiritual  service,  are  the  responsi- 
[   ^30  ] 


The  INSPIRATION  of  RESPON SIBILITT 
bilityas  much  of  the  layman  as  of  the  priest.  Failure 
in  any  one  of  these  departments  of  life  is  as  culpable 
in  the  layman  as  in  the  priest.  It  is  notable  that  of 
all  the  vows  in  the  Ordinal,  whether  in  the  order- 
ino-  of  priest  or  deacon,  or  in  the  consecration  of  a 
bishop,  the  majority  are  but  the  expansion  of  com- 
mon Christian  duty  and  could  be  as  well  taken  by 
layman  as  by  cleric.  The  functional  peculiarities 
are  as  few  as  the  representative  duties  are  many. 
The  priestly  life  is  mainly,  though  not  solely,  the 
intensification  of  fundamental  relations  with  God 
and  man,  as  the  Ordinal  testifies,  and  the  ideal 
priesthood,  so  far  as  it  touches  devotion,  morals  and 
common  service,  is  but  the  perpetual  and  living  re- 
minder to  the  laity  of  what  they  should  be  and  do. 
There  are  many  ready  to  decry  sacerdotalism  ;  but 
few  of  these  have  sufficient  logic  to  recognize  that 
the  more  completely  the  ministry  is  denuded  of  all 
but  its  representative  charafter,  the  more  fully 
is  the  layman  weighted  with  spiritual  responsi- 
bility.* 

And  spiritual  work  is  as  wide  as  human  aftivity. 
The  tendency  to  make  religion  a  department  of 
life  instead  of  the  Christian  synonym  for  the  whole 
of  life,  has  given  rise  to  such  a  redundancy  as 
*  See  Moberlys  M'misterial  Priesthood,  chap.  it. 

[  131  ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    JVORLD 
with  eyes  gleaming  with  hope,  plunge  into  the 
most  hopeless  problems,  and  reap  their  inspiration 
from  their  toil. 


[  134  ] 


appenDiit: 


Where  God  Dwells  t 


HERE  is  no  truth  so  thrilling  as  that 
which  speaks  of  God's  abiding  pre- 
sence, not  merely  with  but  in  His 
creation,  though  He  is  neither  lim- 
ited by  nor  dependent  upon  it.  Having  created,  He 
sustains,  sustains  from  within,  so  that  the  most 
recent  manifestation  of  energy,  whether  in  the 
radiance  of  a  sunrise  or  the  smile  on  a  child's  face, 
is  not  the  reflection  of  a  far-oflF  movement  of  God, 
but  an  indication  of  His  present  working.  God  is 
behind  the  world  of  things,  controlling  and  using 
all  that  is  visible,  so  that  the  voiceless  speaks  and 
the  lifeless  lives  and  imparts  life.  But  His  delight 
is  among  the  sons  of  men.  He  dwells  in  men,  mak- 
ing their  bodies  His  temple  and  their  souls  His 
throne.  He  dwells  in  nature  because  He  dwells  in 
man,  as  well  as  dwelling  in  man  because  man  is 
part  of  nature.  What  will  help  a  man  to  honour 
his  own  body  and  to  reverence  the  bodies  of  others, 
f  The  Bishop  of  Rtpo?ij  under  the  title  of  "  Seeking  and  Find- 

[  135  ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

more  than  the  thought  that  the  Spirit  of  God  fills 
the  human  frame  as  light  fills  the  room,  leaving 
no  part  untouched  ?  It  is  not  sufficient  to  think  of 

ing"  gi'ves  the  follo-w'ing  text  and  exquisite  little  poem  as  a 

Diocesan  Motto  for  1899  : 

Master  J  nvhere  d-ivellest  Thou?  —  St.  John  i :  38. 
The  Quest 

O  Master  of  my  souly  nvhere  dnvellest  Thou  ? 
For  but  one  So<vereign  doth  lo've  allonv^ 
And  if  1  find  not  Thee,  quite  lost  am  /j 
Tell  me  Thy  duelling  place:  this  is  my  cry. 
No  travel  njoill  I  shrink,  no  danger  dread. 
If  to  Thy  home,  nv  her  e'er  it  be,  I  may  be  led: 
Not  ^here  the  ^orld  displays  its  golden  pride, 
Only  njoith  Him,  Who  is  the  King,  nvould  I  abide. 

The  Finding 

Nay,  not  in  far  distant  lands,  but  e^ver  ?iear. 
Near  as  the  heart  that  hopes  or  beats  nvithfear-. 
My  Home  is  in  the  hea^ven,  and  yet  I  dnvell 
With  e'very  human  heart  that  loveth  nxjell. 
Not  nxjhere  proud  perils  are  I  place  My  throne. 
But  woith  the  true  of  heart,  and  these  alone  j 
So  nvhere  the  contrite  soul  breathes  a  true  sigh. 
And  ^here  kind  deeds  are  done,  e^ven  there  d-well  L 
And  those  ivho  li've  by  hve  need  ne'ver  ask. 
They  find  my  duelling  place  in  e^ery  task; 
Fainly  they  seek  'who  all  ifnpatient  roam ; 
Ifbra^e  and  good  thy  heart,  there  is  My  home. 

[  136  ] 


WHERE    GOD    DWELLS 

God  as  being  in  some  organ  of  the  body the 

most  worthy  part,  such  as  the  heart  or  the  brain. 
God's  Spirit  fills  His  temple  with  His  glory  and 
His  power,  making  the  least  comely  parts  noble. 
He  sanftifies  each  member  in  the  fulfillment  of  its 
proper  fundlion.  To  misuse  or  abuse  any  power 
or  faculty,  is  to  drive  the  Spirit  of  God  from  His 
chosen  resting-place;  whereas  to  surrender  the 
members  of  the  body  and  the  faculties  of  the  soul 
to  His  influence,  is  to  lift  up  the  whole  man  into 
increasing  glory  and  beauty. 

But  it  is  not  difficult  to  accept  the  truth  that  God 
lives  within  His  wonderful  creation.  The  earliest 
dawn  of  religion  perceived  Him  in  His  works  of 
beauty  and  majesty,  — the  sun,  the  stars,  the  river, 
the  tempest.  And  if  He  is  immanent  in  that  which 
is  less,  it  is  only  logic  to  say  that  He  must  of  neces- 
sity be  in  that  which  is  greater  —  if  in  the  world 
of  things,  much  more  then  in  the  world  of  men,  in 
the  individual  and  in  society.  But  so  deep  is  man's 
instinftive  reverence,  so  abiding  his  sense  of  un- 
worthiness,  that  it  needed  the  Incarnation  to  con- 
vince man  that  he  was  destined  to  become  the  hea- 
ven of  God.  Yes,  the  heaven  of  God,  for  heaven  is 
where  God  is  rather  than  God  where  heaven  is. 
All  this  has  become  an  elementary  truth  of  reli- 

[  137  J 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

gion.  Only  it  has  to  be  expressed  in  new  terms  from 
time  to  time.  The  thought  has  to  be  recoined  as 
the  edges  of  language  wear  smooth,  that  its  force 
and  value  may  be  recognized.  The  immanence  of 
God,  as  thus  considered,  is  not  difficult  for  men  to 
accept,  unless  indeed  they  wander  into  the  barren 
wastes  of  a  deistic  thought,  which  banishes  God 
from  life  as  we  know  it,  and  makes  Him  a  tran- 
scendent unreality. 

What  does  stagger  men  is  the  existence  in  a  world 
in  which  God  dwells,  of  the  dark  mysteries  from 
which  none  can  escape,  —  the  disastrous  storms, 
the  difficulties,  the  pains  of  life.  If,  they  argue, 
God  dwells  in  the  world,  why  does  He  not  sweep 
away  these  heavy  shadows,  this  over-much  grief? 
There  is  only  one  answer,  and  it  is  this  :  God  does 
not  annihilate  these  things  because  He  has  a  high 
use  for  them ;  He  cannot  destroy  that  which  He 
can  inhabit ;  God  dwells  in  the  dark  places,  in  the 
wilderness,  in  the  storms  ;  He  has  taken  possession 
of  them,  and  they  are  His  just  as  much  as  the  sun- 
shine and  the  fertile  land.  In  short,  God  dv/ells  in 
everything  short  of  sin,  even  in  the  fiercest,  gloomi- 
est penalty  of  sin.  The  angel  of  vengeance  is  the 
angel  of  God's  blessing  for  all  penitents  who  will 
accept  him  as  such. 

[  138  ] 


WHERE    GOD    DWELLS 

When  our  Lord  came  in  the  flesh,  He  entered  into 
every  human  experience  to  abide  in  it  all  the  days. 
He  invested  temptation,  so  that  temptation  is 
henceforth  man's  highest  opportunity.  He  seized 
upon  difficulty,  and  behold,  it  becomes  a  revelation. 
He  invested  responsibility  till  it  became  inspiration, 
duty  till  it  became  privilege.  He  wrapped  Himself 
in  sorrow,  and  sorrow  is  turned  into  joy.  He  ex- 
plored the  darkest  recesses  of  death,  and  death  is 
the  gate  to  life  immortal.  And  these  transforma- 
tions are  for  all  time. 

It  is  a  process  of  transformation,  let  it  be  noted, 
which  these  mysteries  undergo.  It  is  not  that  the 
temptation  in  time  is  swept  away  and  an  oppor- 
tunity substituted  in  its  place  ;  but  the  temptation 
becomes  an  opportunity,  and  man  mounts  upon  it 
to  a  higher  level  of  self-sacrifice,  or  purity  or  hon- 
our. It  is  not  that  the  difficulty  is  burned  up  by 
God's  fire  and  a  revelation  comes  gliding  in  as  a 
sunbeam  athwart  the  ashes  of  the  difficulty ;  but 
the  difficulty  itself  becomes  the  revelation.  The 
pain  of  Rebekah  in  child-birth  as  the  children 
struggled  in  her  womb,  made  her  inquire  of  the 
Lord,  and  God  flashed  back  the  reply  from  the 
heart  of  her  difficulty:  "Two  nations  are  in  thy 
womb."  Joseph  brooded  over  the  condition  of 
[    139   ] 


WITH    GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 
Mary,  his  espoused  wife,  until,  in  the  night  vision, 
the  angel  of  the  Lord  appeared,  and  said  :  "That 
Which  is  conceived  in  her  is  of  the  Holy  Ghost." 
His  difficulty  became  a  revelation.  Similarly  the 
dominant  feature  of  responsibility  becomes  not  its 
weight  but  its  inspiration,  of  duty  not  its  *  ought' 
but  its  *may.'  And  so  it  is  with  sickness,  and  sor- 
row, and  death.  S.  Paul's  sickness,  whether  it  was 
a  malady  of  the  eyes  or  Asiatic  malaria  is  of  little 
consequence,  became  to  him  spiritual  health  and 
power;  "My  grace   is  sufficient  for   thee;  my 
strength  is  made   perfcft  in  weakness."  As  for 
sorrow,  it  is  turned  into  joy,  —  the  very  thing  that 
caused  tears  becoming  the  spring  of  smiles.  And 
death,  the  king  of  shadows,  is  shorn  of  its  horrors 
and  becomes  the  entrance  chamber  to  introduce 
into  the  presence  of  the  King  of  Light. 
The  Bible  is  full  of  phrases  (in  the  Old  Testa- 
ment, of  course,  they  are  prophetic,  pointing  to 
Messianic  days)  that  tell  of  God's  transforming 
power.  Darkness  shall  be  turned  into  light ;  the 
desert  shall  blossom  as  a  rose  ;  the  barren  shall  be  a 
mother  of  children  ;  the  glowing  sand  shall  become 
a  pool ;  and  the  thirsty  ground,  springs  of  water ; 
the  deaf  shall  hear,  and  the  blind  see ;  defeat  be- 
comes victory ;  and  the  instrument  of  shame  and 
[    140   ] 


WHERE    GOD    DIVELLS 
torture,  the  symbol  of  glory  and  joy.  And  all  this, 
which,  through  the  Incarnation,  has  become  a  fadt 
m  common  life,  is  a  revelation  of  God's  power,  not 
to  say  love,  which  far  exceeds  in  wonder  whatever 
we  knew  before.  It  is  appalling  to  think  of  a  power 
so  strong  that  it  can  annihilate  with  the  irresistible 
force  of  its  grinding  heel ;  but  it  is  inspiring  to  con- 
sider an  Almightiness  that  transforms  the  works  of 
evil  into  the  hand-maidens  of  righteousness  and 
converts  the  sinner  into  the  saint.  And  it  is  this 
latter  power  which  eternal  Love  possesses  and  ex- 
hibits. He  persistently  dwells  in  the  sinner  until  the 
sinner  wakes  up  in  His  likeness  and  is  satisfied  with 
it ;  He  enters  into  the  shadows  and  holds  them  un- 
til they  become  first  as  the  morning  clouds  fingered 
by  the  earliest  rays  of  the  rising  sun,  and  eventually 
as  the  brightness  of  the  noon-day  light. 
But  men  must  not  accept  this  as  a  mere  poetic 
fancy,  beautiful  but  not  of  practical  value.  It  is 
nothing,  if  not  a  source  of  power.  We  must  ex- 
periment with  our  own  difficulties,  sickness,  sor- 
rows— yes,  and  our  own  death.  There  are  those. 
Christian  scientists  and  others,  that  espouse  a  false 
idealism,  who  meet  the  grim  realities  of  life  with 
a  courage  that  is  born  of  a  lie.  They  deny  the  ex- 
istence of  everything  they  do  not  like,  saying  that 

[  141  ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

sorrow  and  sin  and  death  are  not,  that  they  are 
phantoms.  They  are  not  unlike  the  silly  bird, 
which,  finding  itself  hard  pressed,  buries  its  head 
in  the  nearest  bush,  and  being  unable  to  see  its 
pursuers,  deceives  itself  into  thinking  that  it  is  not 
pursued.  But  "things  and  actions  are  what  they 
are,"  so  why  should  we  desire  to  deceive  ourselves  ? 
The  Christian's  course  of  aftion  is  to  say  that  these 
dark  mysteries  are  real,  but  the  Spirit  of  God  in  us 
will  enable  us  to  find  the  Spirit  of  God  in  them. 
Our  Lord  on  the  Mount  of  the  Transfiguration, 
and  later  on  in  the  Passion,  tells  the  whole  story. 
Calmly  contemplating  His  own  approaching  death, 
which  He  had  just  foretold,  and  bringing  it  before 
the  Father  in  prayer.  He  sees  the  transfiguration 
of  the  king  of  terrors,  and,  in  a  blaze  of  spiritual 
exaltation,  speaks  of  His  own  decease  so  soon  to 
be  accomplished.  Then  afterward  in  the  Garden 
of  Gethsemane,  on  the  way  of  sorrow,  and  upon 
the  Cross,  He  was  in  every  detail  the  vi6lor.  These 
final  experiences  of  life  did  not  seize  upon  Him ; 
it  was  He  who  seized  them  ;  He  wrung  them  dry  of 
all  that  they  had  to  give  and  for  ever  changed  their 
character.  Frowning  monarchs  they  can  never  be 
to  the  followers  of  our  Lord,  but,  on  the  contrary, 
powerful  servants.  Christ's  victory  was  not  in  the 

[  142  ] 


WHERE    GOD    DWELLS 

Resurreftion  any  more  completely  than  in  the  Pas- 
sion. It  was  in  the  former  because  it  had  been  in  tlic 
latter.  Good  desires  brought  to  good  effed,  as  the 
Easter  Colleft  puts  it,  end  in  the  resurredion  of 
the  body  and  life  everlasting.  Vidory  is  not  only  a 
thing  of  to-morrow ;  it  belongs  to  to-day.  The 
Christian's  life  is  victory  all  along  the  line. 
Let  men,  then,  take  their  own  hard,  grim,  specific 
pain  or  difficulty,  and  face  it  fearlessly  and  expect- 
antly, and  they  will  find  that  the  "worst  turns  the 
best  to  the  brave."  Let  them  throw  their  arms 
about  it,  and  say  with  Jacob  :  "I  will  not  let  Thee 
go  except  Thou  bless  me."  And,  lo  !  they  will  find 
that  their  arms  are  about  God  and  His  about  them. 
If  we  pray  God  to  sanftify  our  sickness,  it  is  not 
that  we  expe6t  Him  to  touch  it  from  without.  No, 
we  look  for  more  than  that,  much  more.  We  ex- 
peft  Him  to  reveal  Himself  out  of  the  depths  of 
the  suffering,  so  that  the  more  earnestly  we  look 
at  it  the  more  clearly  shall  we  see  Him  and  His 
Face  of  Love.  Men  who  have  done  this  with  the 
lesser  of  the  dark  mysteries  will  be  quite  ready 
when  the  time  comes  to  aft  in  the  same  way  to- 
ward death,  and  say  triumphantly :  "  Thanks  be 
to  God  which  giveth  us  the  viftory." 
What  is  true  of  personal  difficulties,  perplexities 
[    143   ] 


WITH   GOD    IN    THE    WORLD 

and  sorrows,  is  equally  true  of  the  sorrows  of  a 
world.  Let  men  remember  that  those  who  hold 
back  timidly  or  discouraged  from  hand-to-hand 
conflift  with  social,  political  and  industrial  difficul- 
ties, are  forfeiting  their  share  in  the  largest  kind 
of  revelation.  God  dwells  there,  in  corporate  sor- 
rows, as  well  as  in  those  of  the  individual  experi- 
ence, and,  if  one  may  say  so,  in  a  fuller  measure. 
The  world  needs  brave  men  to-day,  men  who  are 
determined  to  see  God  wherever  He  is,  and  He  is 
in  everything,  everything  short  of  adlual  sin.  There 
is  no  philosophy  so  false  to  fa6ls  as  pessimism,  ex- 
cept perhaps  cheap  and  unthinking  optimism.  It 
is  only  the  Christian  philosophy  that  is  equal  to 
the  situation,  a  philosophy  which  ignores  nothing, 
howsoever  gruesome,  but  which  sees  God  master 
of  His  world,  and  nowhere  in  such  complete  pos- 
session as  in  its  darkest  corners. 
When  God's  storms  come  sweeping  along,  it  is  the 
Christian  alone  who  can  lift  his  head,  look  up,  and 
stand  ereft  as  they  enshroud  him,  for  a  Christian 
cannot  fear  where  God  is.  Elijah  could  not  find 
God  in  the  storm  that  swept  by  him.  But  the 
youngest  Christian  can  do  what  the  stern  prophet 
of  old  could  not ;  he  can  find  God  in  all  storms, 
for  all  storms  are  God's. 


LAUS  DEO 


IF 

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